Decay and Renewal
by norbooboo
Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity.
1. This Return is Peaceful

Title: Decay and Renewal

Author: norbooboo

Genre: Alternative Universe/ Friendship

Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?

A/N: I am just playing around with these characters, not intending any infringement. This story does not take place in any particular point in the canon House storyline, jumping around as it pleases and is therefore strictly AU. For clarification I will say that the Cameron/Chase romance never matured and is not a factor in this story. Hopefully any major divergences from the show will be explained in the story itself. Thanks for you patience.

**Decay and Renewal**

**1. This Return is Peaceful**

The accident, that's what they referred to it as, but of course it had been anything but an accident. For Carl Toomey, a janitor laid off by Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, everything had worked out just as planned. The bomb he had placed in the parking garage had caused a maximum of monetary damage with a minimal loss of life. Of course, bombs were tricky things and some life would have to be sacrificed. One person was killed in the blast and ten others perished when the roof collapsed.

Eric Foreman would have been one of those ten if his co-worker hadn't shoved him out of the way of the falling concrete into the safety that the elevator with it's steel reinforced cage provided. Robert Chase had not been quite so lucky. After pushing Foreman out of the way, inertia was working against him making it impossible to escape the debris that fell in large chunks.

So it hadn't been an accident that left Foreman with a broken arm and it hadn't been an accident that left Chase in a coma for two weeks. It had been no accident that Foreman was the one to assess the amount of brain damage that had been inflicted and it was not mere chance that the damage was extensive. Where once there had been a bright talented doctor, there was now a child in the body of a man. Still bright, still eager to please, still Chase, but damaged beyond repair. Things change and that is no accident. Chase changed and Foreman changed too.

Spending as much of his time with the younger man as he could; as a neurologist and as a grateful and bewildered recipient of heroism no one thought Chase capable of, Foreman found himself becoming attached in a way he never thought possible. Was it an accident that Foreman found a brother in Chase? It seemed too cold to say so.

A bomb tore apart PPTH, tore apart many lives, but everything must eventually come to rest. Perhaps they don't return in precisely the place they were before, but they do return and flourish again and this return is peaceful.


	2. AllCherishing

Title: Decay and Renewal

Author: norbooboo

Genre: Alternative Universe/ Friendship

Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?

A/N: To begin with please forgive me if the writing style is off-putting, this is just how the story is coming to me and I guess is just my style (or maybe I need a beta reader). I have made only minimal research into the medical aspects of the story, hoping that the emotional part of the story will be more important. Thanks to everyone for the reviews. This story looks to be a lot of short chapters.

What lies still is easy to grasp;

What lies far off is easy to anticipate;

What is brittle is easy to shatter;

What is small is easy to disperse.

Yet a tree broader than a man can

embrace is born of a tiny shoot;

A dam greater than a river can overflow

starts with a clod of earth;

A journey of a thousand miles begins at the spot under one's feet.

–Tao Te Ching

**Decay and Renewal**

**2. All-Cherishing**

"Okay, Chase just one more test for today. I have these three cards and I want you to put them in order to make a story." Foreman put the cards out in front of Chase.

Nothing was ever easy anymore. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that at some point this would have been easy, but nothing was easy anymore. He looked at the cards and the people on them. In one of the cards there was a little girl with pig tails who was looking up in the sky at a balloon and there were tears on her face, he didn't like that one. There was another one with the same girl on it but she was happy and was holding the balloon by a string, that was a much better picture. The last card showed a woman handing something to a man with a lot of balloons. He looked happy too. Chase couldn't figure out what that one had to do with the others. Where was the little girl? Why did that man have so many balloons? He decided that he didn't like that card either. But none of that was helping him decide what he was supposed to do with the cards.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he had a memory of a time when things weren't so hard, so scary. He chewed the inside of his lip for a while and then looked up at Foreman.

Nothing was ever easy anymore. He knew that with any other patient he would encourage them to continue and it would have been easy to maintain emotional distance, but nothing was easy anymore. But when Chase looked up at him and he saw the fear and confusion in those eyes, emotional distance went out the window. What a strange new world this was. Could he have ever imagined wanting to protect Robert Chase. He hadn't even liked Robert Chase in that old world; that time not-so-very long ago before falling buildings and friendship forged in fire.

"Don't worry there isn't a wrong answer." When Chase just kept staring at the pictures, Foreman continued, "Why don't you just tell me what you think about them and we'll see if we can make a story together."

"W...well, like th..this one," Chase stuttered out, "B..But sad 'b..bout this one." If he was aware that he was speaking any differently than he used to there was no sign of it. Most patients with verbal difficulties after traumatic brain injury knew they weren't speaking well and it frustrated them and caused them to stop trying to communicate, but Chase just forged ahead. He had told Foreman once that he hated the stuttering, but he wouldn't let it bother him. It was one of the moments when Foreman found himself admiring this man whom he had thought of as weak and lazy.

"Why are you sad about this one?"

"She s..sad..d 'bout b...balloon ffffly way."

"Yeah, she does look sad." Ability to empathize – check, ability to read and identify body language – check. Two more for Foreman's mental checklist. "What about this one?" he asked pointing to the picture of the mother and balloon vendor.

"Don...don't know. He happy 'b..bout lotta b..balloons?"

"I suppose he might be. Do you think we can make up a story and put them in order?"

Chase looked over the pictures for a long time occasionally stealing a glance up at Foreman. Maybe if could understand he could do it, but there was nothing to grab hold of. He knew what a story was and knew that in a story things were supposed to go a certain way. He knew that you didn't start at the end of the book or the middle. But the how and why were just not there. Maybe if he just moved the pictures around it would make sense, however as he moved his hand to the pictures, he knew it was no use. Nothing was ever easy anymore.

Watching his friend's hand hover uncertainly over the cards, watching the doubt and confusion play in his eyes, Foreman's heart sank. Executive function – no check. He wanted so much for another check-mark, another sign of normality, but knew, had known for more than a week now that it wasn't going to be that easy, nothing ever was. He covered Chase's hand with his own, "It's okay kid, don't worry about it." And the smile on his face was genuine.

"Eric, y..you my b...best ffffriend."

It was that easy.


	3. Cherished part a

Title: Decay and Renewal

Author: norbooboo

Genre: Alternative Universe/ Friendship

Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?

A/N: Hi, this chapter turned out way longer than I expected and right after I announced that this story would be a lot of short chapters. Darn that bunny. Just a warning or two. There is some swearing in this chapter, but nothing too bad. Also, if you are a fan of Rowan Chase be warned that I don't play nice with him. And some definitions: **xanthomas**- a deposit of cholesterol rich material in tendons and other areas of the body **apraxia**- neurological disorder characterized by loss of the ability to execute or carry out learned purposeful movements, despite having the desire and the physical ability to perform the movements. Dialogue is not my strong suit and House is very difficult for me to write believably, so hope that doesn't detract. Hope you enjoy the story.

He is good to those who are good;

He is also good to those who are not good,

Thereby he is good.

He trusts those who are trustworthy;

He also trusts those who are not trustworthy,

Thereby he is trustworthy.

**Decay and Renewal**

**3. Cherished**

House had called Foreman's apartment at 8:00 in the morning, informing him that they had a case and to get himself and his dumber, blonder shadow down the the hospital before he was forced to fire him. That had been it. No hello. No waiting for a response. No see you then. He could have called back and reminded House what day it was, but it seemed easier to just comply.

He had barely made it in the doors when House slapped a patient file into his chest. Why did everything this man have to be so violent, so hard. He opened his mouth to speak, but House's attention was on Chase who himself was completely absorbed by the undulating patterns of dust particles in the sunbeam streaming through a nearby window.

"How you doing today kiddo?" House asked once Chase's attention was on him.

"Good. Made coffee all b..by myself." he said proudly.

"Well alright, let's go put that new found skill to use and make some coffee in diagnostics. Maybe we can convince Cuddy to make that a paid position."

"House...." Foreman tried to cut it.

"If I make her taste Foreman's coffee, I think I can convince her it's a humanitarian necessity." House made a face when discussing Foreman's coffee and Chase laughed, not a laugh at the boss so he likes you laugh, but an honest laugh that felt warm like drinking thick hot chocolate on a cold day. He remembered the day, not too long after his youngest team member had come out of the coma, that Foreman had rushed into diagnostics with another of his Chase updates, "He still has a sense of humor. Just about laughed his ass off when I told him about Wilson putting laxatives in his salad dressing, knowing you'd steal it and..." He would have shown more enthusiasm at the time if he hadn't been subject of the joke. He doubted Foreman would ever get tired of bringing up that incident. Revenge would have to be arranged.

"House," Foreman tried again more forcefully, "are you forgetting that I need to take Chase down to Virginia today. He's...." Somehow he couldn't get the words 'leaving today' passed his lips and figured the pause would be enough for House to interrupt.

"Well, this patient can't wait, so the great Dr. Chase will have to, or he can cancel his speech and come here to get his son. He should understand just how busy we doctors are, don't you think?"

Dr. Rowan Chase had been contacted about his son's 'accident' just hours after the explosion. It was assumed that a father would be on the next plane to be with their child, but that had not happened. Instead the elder Dr. Chase had deferred to Foreman as to Chase's medical care and proceeded to 'clear his calendar' so that he could travel to the states. A world renowned rheumatologist must have a very busy calendar because a week became a month and one month became three. Now after so much had happened, after a family had formed around Chase like a band-aid, the man was coming to rip the bandage off. It was going to sting.

"Unless you can't wait to be rid of your shadow here," House added, eyebrows cocked in challenge.

Foreman went rigid. "Don't say that. Don't worry Chase, he doesn't mean it."

"Of-course, he knows I don't mean it." House replied in a 'well, duh' tone that he reserved for Foreman alone, slinging an arm around Chase's shoulders. It wasn't worth acknowledging because House would deny it and mock the suggestion, but there was undeniable affection in the gesture.

"Know he d..doesn't mean it," Chase assured his friend.

"If that's settled, how about we save a life."

"Yeah, cause you're all about the people House." Foreman followed as House led the way to the elevators. Chase was being swept along with House, the older man's arm still around his shoulders.

"Hey, kiddo how about we sneak into the surgeons' lounge and watch that Dog Whisperer show. Today's the day, I feel it, that guy's going to get a good ass bite." The last two words were said with far too much relish as he stabbed the elevator button with his cane.

"Uh, House, remember... patient, saving a life? How about we work on a diagnosis?"

"We'll get right on that...after you get a history."

"House there isn't even anything in this file, just a patient name."

"Oh, I'm sorry....." House paused for a beat and then added, "She's in room 412. Have fun; get me lots of juicy information. Medically relevant is great. Fodder for Penthouse Forum is better" The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and as the doors slid open Foreman found himself being forced into the hallway by his boss's cane.

"House, I need to call Dr. Chase."

"Got it covered Mr. Responsibility." House mocked as the doors closed.

***** ***** *****

House was up to something and it just wasn't the day for it. Foreman had only had a week to prepare for Chase's dad coming to get him. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but for some reason it sure the hell wasn't Dr. Rowan Chase finally deciding to do something about his son's situation in the form of whisking Chase away to Australia. Of course it shouldn't have been surprising, why wouldn't a father want his son to be near him. As much as Foreman had come to feel like he was Chase's brother, feeling didn't make it so. Arriving at room 412, he took a deep breath to clear his thoughts before entering the room a false smile forced on his lips.

"Good morning Miss...Danner."

***** ***** *****

As far as House was concerned, the surgeons' lounge was the most comfortable in the whole hospital and he couldn't understand it. Surgeons were just necessary skilled labor, in his opinion. Someone else did the mental heavy lifting. Someone else, like himself, figured out what needed to be done; figured out the puzzle, drew a map, and they just dug where they were told to. On the other hand they did need to deal with the patients' families with all of that irrational emotion and cloying need for support. Then again, they usually didn't have to say more than a few words to the patient themselves. Diagnosticians had no choice but to deal with the damn patients. Well, he didn't himself, not when he could help it, but his point stood. Surgeons sucked and he deserved to use their lounge whenever he wanted to.

"Dr. House, this lounge is for the surgical staff. It really isn't appropriate for you to be here." A tall doctor with a neat greying mustache and short salt and pepper hair was standing behind where House and Chase sat on the couch watching TV. His hands were on his hips, trying to convey the image that he was not intimidated by House. He was failing.

House whipped around. "Ttsss!" He did his best imitation of the Dog Whisperer. "I guess it doesn't work on doctors." Chase laughed and that was all the encouragement House needed to continue. "Maybe I should start my own show called The Doctor Whisperer. We've discovered that 'ttsss' thing doesn't work how about 'Malpractice!' He shouted the last actually making the surgeon jump and his eyes widen.

"Dr. House, you need to leave."

"Yeah, yeah. You see Chase," House turned his attention to his companion as they got up to go, "This is why I always had you do my cutting for me. Surgeons suck."

The surgeon made an exasperated face at House and then addressed Chase, "How are you Robert?" he asked in a slow loud voice. It made House cringe. The self important condescending jerk thought he was doing this the right way. He wasn't just being uncomfortable. He thought he was being compassionate and understanding. Jeez, House hated people sometimes. Okay, a lot of times.

"Ff..ffine. How are you?" Chase replied copying the annoying, condescending tone of voice and then rolling his eyes, as if to say 'Can you believe this jerk?' This time it was House's turn to laugh.

"Even the Half-Brain has got you pegged."

***** ***** *****

Cameron and Foreman were already in diagnostics when House and Chase arrived. Foreman was writing symptoms on the white board and Cameron was beginning to make coffee.

"Hey, get away from that."

At House's command, Foreman backed away from the white board and held the marker out for him.

"No, not you," House said with a shake of his head, "you." He jabbed his cane at Cameron. "That's Chase's job."

Cameron looked at House doubtfully, but the confident happy look on Chase's face as he moved to take the bag of coffee grounds from her, kept her from saying anything.

"Okay, thrill me with your vast knowledge of our patient, Foreman. Dazzle me with your thoughtful and thorough assessment of her symptoms. Or just do what you usually do, doesn't matter to me." House eased himself into one of the conference room chairs massaging his thigh as he did so. Damn thing was aching like a son of a bitch. He pulled out his vicodin and popped a couple as he half listened to what Foreman was reporting.

"Patient is a nineteen year old female, just started at Princeton. No job on or off campus. She's on the row team. Xanthomas, sudden onset of arthritis, shortness of breath, and chest pain during exercise. An echo showed some deterioration of the soft tissue of the left ventricle. Otherwise she's in good health." Foreman set down the file and as House showed no signs that he was going to do it, retrieved the marker and added shortness of breath and chest pain to the xanthomas and arthritis that were already on the board.

"Yeah, perfect health, other than the dying bit." House was speaking to his team, but his attention was mostly on Chase. It was actually painful to watch. Although Chase didn't lose all executive function as was originally feared he seemed to lack the ability to make plans and that coupled with the persistent apraxia made making coffee a monumental task for the young man. House watched him as he moved two steps back in the process for every one forward. Fumbling with the coffee bag, realizing that he had nothing to scoop the grounds with, fumbling with the spoon, realizing he hadn't opened the top of the coffee machine, fumbling with the coffee machine, realizing he needed a filter, dropping the spoon.... Cameron would glance up and bite her lip. House knew just what she was thinking ; how she wanted to just take the coffee and make it herself, give Chase a hug, and then go cry somewhere. That wasn't a surprise. Foreman was another story. The old Foreman would have just made the damn coffee himself, skipped the hug and the cry, and just told House he was an ass for making Chase do something he was clearly not capable of. The Eric Foreman in the room with them now didn't stop reading the patient's history but didn't ignore his friend's need either. With a subtlety House wouldn't have credited him with, he unobtrusively helped Chase. He straightened the bag when it seemed all the grounds were about to pour to the ground, pulled open the drawer where the filters were just as Chase realized he needed one. He did that all without seeming to glance away from the file and when the task was done he held out his hand for a brotherly fist bump that Chase returned with a shy smile. It wasn't a condescending "Good boy" gesture. It wasn't a self-indulgent "Aren't I great with the dummy" sign. It was a genuine acknowledgement that a difficult task had been completed. It was pride and friendship; it was a private moment between brothers and House looked away, a little uncomfortable with the emotion.


	4. Cherished part b

Title: Decay and Renewal

Author: norbooboo

Genre: Non-Canon/ Friendship

Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?

A/N: This is a long chapter. It has a lot of dialogue which is not my forte, so please forgive me for that. Something to keep in mind is that many of the sections in this chapter are happening simultaneously to other sections. Thank you all for reading and for your kind reviews. I hope you like this chapter.

Good fortune follows upon disaster;

Disaster lurks within good fortune;

Who can say how things will end?

Perhaps there is no end.

**Decay and Renewal**

**3. Cherished part b**

Wilson entered the diagnostics office as if on cue, giving House something to focus on other than the blatant show of emotion between Foreman and Chase.

"Don't you have too many dying ragamuffins in need of comfort to come and mooch coffee from us."

"As a matter of fact, no. All of my ragamuffins are in remission or soon will be. They don't call me the boy wonder for nothing," Wilson responded without missing a beat. No one handled House the way Wilson did. Chase used to joke with Foreman and Cameron that the two must meet after work to plan out their act. "Hey, Chase, I didn't think I would get to see you today. I thought you and Foreman were driving down to..."

"We've got a case, so Half Brain is going to have to wait," House broke in, pulling himself to his feet. "Do we have any ideas people?"

"Well," Cameron began, "the xanthomas could be from primary biliary cirrhosis or from diabetes. And don't call Chase that."

"She's too young for the biliary cirrhosis." Foreman responded, "and neither explain arthritis or any kind of swelling of the joints. And don't worry Chase knows House is joking."

"Faustman, in her study at Harvard, showed a common link and the diabetes would explain the heart disease too." She crossed her arms and allowed her chin to push up a notch. She always felt she had something to prove to Foreman. It was something that she and Chase had had in common. They both teased him and pretended that they weren't intimidated by his drive and intelligence, but the truth was they actually had equal parts admiration and jealousy for Eric Foreman. It had led Chase to be aloof and awkward and Cameron to push and fight around their colleague.

"Could be cancer." Wilson again spoke up right on cue, preventing the Cameron – Foreman escalation before it could really start. He was pouring himself some coffee and focusing on the board. "It's not perfect but malignant fibroxanthoma would explain the xanthomas in someone so young." He took a careful sip of the hot coffee and nodded appreciatively. "Good coffee. Well, those ragamuffins aren't going to cure themselves."

House smiled after his friend. Somehow he got the feeling Wilson knew that Chase had made the coffee. He had no doubt the coffee was okay, but it was just like the man to make so expert, so subtle a compliment. Subtly wasn't House's forte, however. "What are you two sitting there for. Unless anyone else wants to congratulate Chase for making a pot of coffee, go see if one of you is even close to right. Foreman go check on the blood test, I'm assuming you already ordered. Cameron do an ultrasound and check for obstructions in the liver. If neither of those lead anywhere biopsy a xanthoma. I hate when Wilson is right, so save that for last."

"Yeah, wouldn't want the patient's health to get in the way of your need to prove Wilson wrong." Foreman rolled his eyes. House infuriated him like no one else could. "Can Chase stay here?"

"Of course, Half Brain and I can find all kinds of fun things to do, right kiddo."

Chase just shook his head yes, but House could tell there was something on the younger man's mind. He just hoped he could get rid of Foreman quickly enough so he could pry the thought loose before it was gone.

"Just make sure you call Dr. Chase. And don't give me that look House. I know you haven't done it yet," Foreman said, making toward the door. On his way he brought his mouth close to House's ear. " I don't know what you're up to but don't screw with Chase or I will make your life hell."

House watched them leave. At one time that threat wouldn't have meant anything, would have been mock-worthy, but he wasn't so sure anymore. He looked up at Chase and smiled at the expression on the young man's face. He looked like a child trying to work out a particularly difficult math problem. How he wished he could make some comment about that but it would have left a bad taste in his mouth. He was trying to buy Foreman some time to do the right thing, but it seemed he was stubbornly refusing to see what was obvious to everyone else. This really could be their last day with Chase. So he merely asked, "What's on your mind kiddo?"

"Use to help." Chase said not looking at House.

"You helped, you made coffee."

"Use to help patient, you," and now the young man did look up at House. "You use t..to be mean and make me think hard..der." He could remember being a doctor, could remember sitting at this table throwing out ideas. He knew that he was right a lot of the time. He could clearly remember when he was wrong; the sting of disappointing House; the embarrassment of Foreman's disdain. But it was like a movie he had seen once, not like is real life. Eric was his friend and House, well, House was like no one else he knew. There wasn't frustration about not being like he used to be. There wasn't even sadness. It was just that it was still there a little bit; that part of him and he wished he were allowed to show it.

House felt his heart wrench slightly. Almost everything about Chase was different now. He even looked different. He still had the physical signs of the 'accident', bruises and just now healing cuts and abrasions. His hair was growing back; now a little longer than a crew cut and hiding the surgery scar. It had been unnerving when it was visible, reminding one of how close Chase had been to dying on the operating table as doctors fought to stem the bleeding in his brain and save one of their own. Thinking back on that horrific day, House thought maybe he should be a little nicer to the surgeons.

But it wasn't just the physical look of Chase that was different, the young man held himself differently. Before, Chase was always on guard. It was like working with a hockey goalie. Keep your eye on the puck or it might get past you or worse might knock you on your ass. Things were different now. Now Chase was open, exposed. And maybe to some that would seem to be a good thing, but House knew better. Being able to close yourself off, don your armor was the only thing that kept you safe in a world full of idiots at best and pricks at worst. Just because he knew and hated that everyone lied, didn't mean he thought lying was unnecessary. He worried about Chase, people would take advantage of him and he had no protection, not from well intentioned people like Cameron and not ill intentioned people like... well, like himself.

"Okay, I think I can manage being pushy and mean if you can manage a diagnosis."

Chase's face lit up. House always seemed to know what he was trying to communicate when no one else did, " Was th...thinking was someth..thing she eating."

"Food poisoning, well you're not any stupider than you ever were," House cringed a little at how heartless he sounded, but knew this was what Chase wanted and dammit he wasn't going to smother the kid in pity. He hated pity. "She doesn't have any gastrointestinal symptoms."

"No, not stomach."

"Allergies."

"Don't know."

"Could be," and really it should be on the table. It didn't exactly explain the issues with the heart, but it could explain the other symptoms. "Let's call your dad, tell Foreman to do a scratch test, and then we'll get Wilson to buy us some lunch."

***** ***** *****

Dr. Rowan Chase had been completely understanding of House's predicament. Patients come first, sorry Robert is such a burden, changing the tickets from Ronald Reagan to Newark International would be no problem, blah, blah, blah. It was all House could do not to hang up on the man. He had no idea why he was given such a hard time for being a misanthrope, not when people generally proved themselves to be unworthy of anything other than scorn.

"What are you getting us for lunch?" House cut in the lunch line behind Wilson. The nurse behind them made a angry cat noise in her throat, but stopped when she saw Chase.

"Oh, I didn't see you Dr. Chase. How are you today?" again with the slow, loud voice. Chase must have been tired because instead of answering he just looked down at his shoes.

House gladly took over, "Other than losing big chunks of his temporal and parietal lobes, he's doing just dandy. And apparently being cute and dumb is excuse enough for **him** to cut in line, how about sexy and crippled?" She was making that pissed off cat noise again so he figured he'd leave well enough alone.

Without conferring with either of them, Wilson began to load his tray with a variety of lunch items. House knew this was for Chase's benefit, not his. Chase never seemed to get hungry anymore and his weight loss was an unspoken worry for all of them. House ordered himself a rueben and with his usual lack of grace looked to Wilson when asked by the cashier, "Will this be together?"

They found a quiet booth and he and Wilson began gossiping about Cuddy and the date she had reportedly had with one of the top donors, which led to talk of the new big cheese in the donor department, Edward Vogler.

"You're going to have to be more careful with him around. The whole thing makes me nervous," Wilson remarked. "It's a double edged sword. He brings a whole lot of money and I won't lie, I would like to see a chunk of it come to my department, but something about that man just isn't right. He seems to think that this donation is like he just bought the hospital at Target. A brand new shiny toy."

The conversation continued moving from Cuddy's low cut tops, to Wilson's dying marriage, to the uselessness of oncologists, to the hubris of diagnosticians in a way only their conversations could. Chase was indeed tired and the way his friends talked back and forth so quickly just drained him more. With a quiet sigh he allowed his head to fall to House's shoulder. One look from House told Wilson to save whatever comment he wished to make. The oncologist simply held up his hands in surrender, but couldn't help the goofy smile on his lips. Not that he would tease him about this. The whole thing had brought out something in all of them that had been lacking. They all liked being able to care about Chase. To care about someone without worrying about exposing oneself to ridicule or hurt was Chase's gift to them. For he now he seemed to cherish everyone, including House, and in return was cherished.

"Shut up," was all House directed at him before turning his attention to Chase "You haven't eaten much kiddo, how about some salad?"

"No," Chase responded with a yawn, " remember, eating p..plants makes you sick."

"What do you mean Chase? Plants don't make you sick" Wilson asked. The young man just raised his head from House's shoulder and shrugged. He wasn't actually sure he knew what it meant. It had just entered his head.

"Of-course, they do." House was standing up, a far off look in his eyes. "Hey, kid, stay with Wilson, okay."

"Okay."

"When you're done with your epiphany come by my office. I have a patient meeting at 1:00" House nodded and quickly limped from the cafeteria. "Okay, Chase I hate to sound like a doctor, but you really need to eat something."

"Sound like mother." Wilson chuckled, but was happy to watch him eat what was left of House's rueben sandwich.

***** ***** *****

"What kind of food do you eat?" House asked slamming his cane down on the patient's table.

"Who are you?" Fiona Danner asked in bewilderment and not a little fear. Who the hell was this scruffy guy.

"I'm your doctor. Now answer the question."

"Oh, you're Doctor House?"

"Yes, yes glad to meet you, sorry you're feeling sick, poor you." House limped over to the bed and added very slowly, "What do you eat?"

"I... I... What does it matter?" She was happy to see Doctors Cameron and Foreman entering the room behind the deranged guy. "Is this really Doctor House? He's kinda mean."

"Yeah he is, but if he's asking you a question you really need to answer as truthfully as you can. If anyone can find out what's wrong with you, It's Doctor House." Cameron smiled at both Fiona and House. In return he rolled his eyes at her.

"Well, I'm a vegetarian, not vegan or anything, but I don't eat any meat. My boyfriend says..."

"Yeah, very sweet gone vegetarian for a boy. Usually it's the guy who gives up meat for the opportunity to get laid."

Fiona put on her best offended face, but the overall effect was ruined by the dark circles under her eyes and the xanthoma pustules on her neck. "Hey, it's not like that! Chad has just shown me that the way my family eats is..."

"How does your family eat?" House interrupted. He retrieved his vicodin from his inside jacket pocket, popped a couple and then grabbed his cane off the table and leaned on it heavily.

"It's pretty bad. Nothing but meat and potatoes. My mom actually uses lard and bacon grease to cook things with. It's not that they're stupid or anything," she felt the need to defend her family At Princeton she heard enough kids whining about how terrible their folks were to make her cautious of doing the same. "They're great people. They just eat the way their family has for generation. Farmers, you know. Hey, you don't think all of that made me sick, gave me heart disease. I mean my dad's been eating like that his whole life and he's fine and..."

"Shut up! Do you always talk this much?"

"House, what are you thinking?" Foreman interrupted just as their patient opened her mouth, probably to give his boss a piece of her mind.

"Chase actually diagnosed it, he doesn't know that though so I'm claiming all the genius for myself." House turned to the patient. "It's not your farmer food that's killing you, it's the city slicker food "Chad" is making you choke down. Admit it you hate all that rabbit food." Fiona stared at her hands refusing to acknowledge the truth. "You have so many plant sterols coursing through your blood, you might start to photosynthesize. The rest of us process the sterols and get rid of them, but about one time in a couple of million or more a human body comes around that can't get rid of the sterols and they start accumulating in the body and as we're **not** plants that doesn't work out so well." House took a moment to make sure he was creating the proper genius doctor impression on the patient and then continued, "You've been accumulating sterols your whole life, but while you were down on the farm you just didn't get whole lot of them. You head to the big city, meet good ole' Chad and suddenly you're racking up the sterols. They start causing havoc, ruin your heart, mar your pretty skin, and make your joints hurt."

"Sitosterolemia?" Cameron was flabbergasted. "It's incredibly rare."

"I eat rare for breakfast. Speaking of which you," he pointed at Dr. Cameron, "make sure the kitchen gets orders for her food no vegetables, no vegetable fats, no nuts, and I'm sorry to say no chocolate and then go get Chase from Wilson's office before his poor dying cancer patient comes. You," he pointed at Dr. Foreman, "Do another blood test. Anything over 20% plant sterols confirms the sitosterolemia. In the meantime get her started on Zetia or Prevalite. Then come to my office, **we** have something to discuss."

He could have argued, asked what the hell House wanted, but really there wasn't any use and he just didn't have the energy to fight the game today. Besides, it would give him a chance to call Rowan Chase. Dammit all, why did House have to ruin his last day with Chase.

***** ***** *****

House was in his office listening to Mud Men from Pink Floyd's Obscured by Clouds album. Foreman entered, but knew better than to interrupt his boss during his air guitar solo. With one last flourish, House turned off the music and leveled his infamous stare at the other man. Of course, the stare didn't quite have the same effect it did when he first started working there, but still no one really felt comfortable in its path.

"You were right, or was it really Chase?"

"He put me on the right path, I mean even with all your brains working as hard as they can, you guys need **me** to make a diagnosis."

"Yeah, we'd be nothing without our psychopathic, antisocial, cynical, drug-addicted boss from hell." Foreman was a bit surprised at his own venom. His mood was darkening by the moment.

"So, anxious to be rid of the half-brain, eh?"

"Dammit, House, I know you have some reason for baiting me and I should just ignore you, but I swear if you bring that up again, I'll..."

"You'll what?" House got up and without his cane limped over to Foreman, " Just answer the question. Do you want Chase to go? I understand; not really what you had planned, taking care of someone you don't even like, at least not before he saved your life."

"Your right, I don't have to play games like you. I can admit it. I never liked Chase, never made a secret of not liking Chase. And he saved my life and now here I am taking care of him. My motives must be messed up, right?"

House took note of the the clenched fists that belied the calm voice. It shouldn't take much more pushing 'til he could manipulate Foreman into telling him what was holding him back from just telling Rowan Chase to go save a life somewhere and leave Chase in their care. "So, it's a guilt thing. He got hurt saving your life so you get stuck being the babysitter. Yeah and letting dear old Papa Chase come and take the kid away leaves you totally off the hook."

"No! Just shut up." He raised his fist, but managed; just managed to hold back the punch. His shoulders sagged and he felt as if the weight of the world were on them as he walked to a chair and lowered himself into it. "Listen, I know this is going to be a difficult concept for a cold-hearted bastard like you to understand, but I don't take care of Chase because I feel guilty. I take care of Chase because he makes me a better person, because I like who I am around him." He dropped his chin to his chest, the way he always did when he was preparing his defenses against House, "Yes, I wish he was staying here, but I don't get to be selfish about this," he stood and turned to leave, adding over his shoulder, "and neither do you."

Before he could make it to the door, his cell phone rang. "Yes, Dr. Chase, it's good to hear from you........No, it's been no trouble at all.......Okay, yeah. We can be out the door in half an hour and meet you there......Where?........Okay we'll see you there......"

House limped back to his desk and listened to as much of the conversation as he could as the door to his office closed behind Foreman. People were stupid. That was the inescapable fact that pervaded his life. People were stupid and emotional and really hardly ever worth the effort. At least he had determined that his employee really wasn't just trying to get rid of the huge responsibility that seemed to have fallen into his lap. He wouldn't have blamed Foreman if he had, he just wanted to know if that was the case. Could the man really think it would be selfish of him to make Chase stay. The only selfish person in the whole scenario was Rowan Chase.

***** ***** *****

It was quarter to one, Dr. Wilson was reviewing the chart of his next patient. However his thoughts continually strayed to Chase who was asleep on his couch. He hadn't known the young man very well before the 'accident'. Sure he knew the small things, the unimportant things that one learned about co-workers, the gossip that a small environment such as a hospital bred. The way Chase was now, you had only to spend an hour with him to feel like you know him, know his soul, the thing that was so hard to share before. Maybe he had a hard time communicating the little things now, the things that were so easy before, but it was easy to hold him your heart now. Though Wilson was often sad for the young man for what he had lost he couldn't help but feel grateful for what had been gained.

Wilson, being Wilson, felt guilty about that of course, until the night he had gone to House's place to escape a confrontation with his wife. He found his friend already had a guest. Foreman had had a date and inexplicably House had offered to have Chase stay at his place for the night. When Wilson got there the two were seated at the piano and House was teaching Chase to play "Mary had a Little Lamb". The softness and gentleness he had seen on his friend's face, when he thought Wilson wasn't looking, had taken his breath away. He hoped Chase made as much of a recovery as he could, considering the extent of his injuries, but also that he retained this quality, engendering caring in others. A soft knock on the door roused him from his thoughts. 'Damn,' he thought, 'Mr. Grant is early.'

"Dr. Wilson," Cameron poked her head in, "I thought Chase would like to take a walk with me."

"He's asleep, but I have a patient due any minute so that would be best." Wilson rose and went to the couch. "Chase,... Chase." He let Chase wake up before continuing. "Sorry to wake you, but Allison needs some company and I need my couch."

"Okay, sorry D..Doctor Wilson," he answered rubbing and blinking his eyes and stretching.

"It's fine, just make sure to come and say goodbye before you leave okay?"

***** ***** *****

Chase nodded and followed Cameron out. "I didn't get any lunch and I really don't want cafeteria food today. Is it alright if we walk over to Mitchell's Deli. I have such a craving for a gyro."

"Okay."

The walk was quiet. Cameron was jealous of how everyone else seemed so comfortable around Chase and she just didn't know what to say. Luckily she was rescued by Doctor Cuddy as soon as they got back to the hospital. The clinic was overrun with sniffly noses and God knew what else.

"I'm sorry Chase, we'll find Foreman and find out what's going on with your dad as soon as I get some of these people through the clinic. I wouldn't bother, but they really sound overloaded and you know how they get with the patients when things are crowded. It won't take..."

"A...Allison. All okay p...promise." Chase put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her with a smile. And for dizzying moment it was like the old Chase was there. Without warning she felt a lump in her throat. Quickly turning to go ask the nurses to keep their eyes on him, she heard House's voice.

"Stop getting your pity all over him, that stuff stains you know." She jumped and turned to find him right behind her. How a cripple with a cane snuck up on a person was beyond her.

"I don't pity him."

"You'd pity a ham sandwich for being eaten." He looked back at where Chase was sitting his attention being absorbed by a baby two seats over.

"You actually don't know everything about me." She grabbed a file off of the nurses station and headed toward one of the clinic rooms. Before reaching it she turned back to House. "The Chase I've known for over a year is gone and he's not coming back; I'm mourning him. Maybe if you weren't having so much fun treating him like your new toy you could take a moment to do the same." She turned her back to him signaling that this was not a conversation.

House watched her as she got to work and took a moment to acknowledge to himself his admiration for Doctor Cameron. He readily admitted to anyone that he liked his team because they weren't boring and they were usually useful. What others didn't hear him say was that these doctors deserved his admiration; didn't mean he gave it often, just that he thought they deserved it. He turned back to Chase. He would let Foreman let her know that they were leaving for the airport. He really didn't have the energy for it.

***** ***** *****

In the end they all loaded into Wilson's car, even Cameron who risked Cuddy's anger by abandoning the clinic in favor of seeing Chase off. Wilson and House sat in the front and the team sat in the back. House didn't like the idea poking away at the back of his mind that this was the last time he'd see them all together. He hated being out of control of the situation, hated the great Rowan Chase, hated Foreman, and hated himself for giving a damn about Chase in the first place.

Chase's father was waiting in the ticketing area just as he said he would be, the Quantas Air logo seeming like some sort of ill omen. There was an uncomfortable silence as the older man greeted his son with a handshake and Chase accepted with an uncertain look to Foreman.

"I need some form of identification for Robert to get his ticket and then I can have him out of your hair." Rowan spoke with a low even tone made even smoother with the interesting mixture of Czech and Australian accents. So smooth they almost didn't notice the 'get him out of your hair' bit.

"It's been our pleasure Dr. Chase. Robert is our friend so it was no problem." Wilson responded when everyone else's jaws dropped. This was probably not the time or the place for an angry outburst from House.

He could see that Chase was becoming tense, the young man was edging closer and closer to his friend until their arms were touching. "Hey man, let's go get your ticket," Foreman said. He led Chase to the line for the ticket counter followed by Rowan Chase.

After checking in the group headed to the TSA security gate. Foreman outwardly showed nothing, but inside he was screaming, cursing, wishing he could have a sign to show him what to do; let Chase go with his father or ask the man to leave his son with them. The man barely knew them, but then again he hadn't seemed bothered by that fact enough to come three months earlier. When he felt Chase's shaking hand slip into his he had his answer. "Dr. Chase, I wonder if you have a moment to speak privately?"

"I suppose we have a few moments." The man answered evenly.

"Let's go buy some tacky souvenirs for you to give to all those Aussies." House led the way, knowing that Wilson and Cameron would understand and bring Chase away from the two men in whose hands his future lay.

"Sir, I...I know that this is going to seem very forward of me, but just understand that I have your son's best interest at heart. I'm not sure that taking him away is the best thing right now. He is improving so much and I think the change will be detrimental. You seem like an incredibly busy man and really Chase requires close to around the clock monitoring. Don't get me wrong, he's not difficult or dangerous to anyone, he's just like a child when it comes to executive function and the apraxia makes taking care of himself a challenge. And we...," and here it was, the real reason, and it was taking all of his strength to push the words out of his mouth, "...I have really gotten very close to Chase. I want him to stay with me." He forced himself to look straight into the man's eyes.

"You are forward Doctor Foreman. I can understand that you feel a certain responsibility to my son because he is this way because of you, but that is not my concern right now." The voice was calm and pleasant, but each word was a punch in the gut. "I am responsible for my son. I would not have the world seeing me abandon him."

"Is that what this is about?" Foreman had opened his mouth to speak, but it was House's voice that came out. "Give it up Foreman. If that is why he's doing this there is no way he'll give in. Doesn't give a damn about the kid accept by how he reflects on him. That's why Chase is a doctor, that's why he can't just let the kid be happy now. What would people think?"

"I think you've both said quit enough. Now we must go. Robert," when Rowan Chase raised his voice you could feel it in your feet, "we need to go now or we will miss our flight."

Chase came over with Wilson and Cameron still leading him. The young man had been watching everything around him and was getting a very bad feeling about the whole situation. Near the shop with the souvenirs he had watched a older woman saying goodbye to a young man. The young man had said 'Bye Mom, I'll miss you' and she had started to cry and hugged him. This was what was happening to him. He was going away and he wasn't going to see them anymore, wasn't going to see Eric anymore. It was with that realization that the panic set in.

"D...don't want t..to go," he said looking at Foreman not his father. Tears started to make their way down his checks and his breath was starting to hitch in an uncomfortable way. "Want to sstay with you."

"Come Robert, let's not make a scene. You will be fine with me," his father said and took hold of his arm. Chase visibly flinched at the contact.

"Wait, just give us a moment." Foreman forced his voice to remain level. He looked at his friends silently telling them it was time to make their goodbyes. "It's okay kid, your going to be okay." They took a couple of deep breaths together and Chase made an attempt at a smile for his friend.

"Bye, Chase. Make sure you eat, okay." Wilson couldn't think of anything else to say. This was all wrong.

"Y..yes mom." This got a small laugh from them all.

Cameron took a deep breath. If she cried now it would make Chase cry, so she steeled herself and then gave him a big hug. "I expect a lot of letters and postcards. I've never been to Australia so now I have a great excuse. I promise, I'll see you soon."

Chase hugged her back. "Goodbye C....Cameron" Wilson was smart enough to know that she had done the best she could and he pulled her away quickly so the tears that were bound to come wouldn't be seen. This was all wrong.

"Hey, Half-Brain." The smart remarks came so easily, but this wasn't the time for jokes. "Remember, not everyone is your friend. There are bad people who will try to take advantage of you. You can rely on us though; you call if you need anything. Just not during General Hospital."

"Don't c..call during D...dog Whhhisp..per." Chase then threw his arms around House. The older man looked flustered for a moment and then relaxed and returned the hug. He stepped back to give Foreman some privacy. This was all wrong.

The tears were forming in Chase's eyes again and Foreman's heart was breaking. He grabbed his friend by the back of the neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads were touching. "Chase, you are my best friend; my brother and that doesn't stop just because you're going on an airplane. I'm not going anywhere. You saved my life three months ago and every day since then you've given it meaning. Be brave. I love you." He pulled Chase into a fierce hug.

"Doctor Foreman we really must be going." Rowan clasped his hand on Chase's shoulder and lead him toward the security gate.

Before they had gone far Chase turned and ran back to Foreman. "I love you, too" he announced in a clear unstuttering voice and gave him one more quick hug before returning to his father.

Foreman was joined by the other four as they all watched their friend for as far as they could and longer. House of course was the one to break the silence, "How about a drink?"

This was all wrong.


	5. Oppositon part a

Title: Decay and Renewal

Author: norbooboo

Genre: Non-Canon/ Friendship

Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?

A/N: I'm sorry that this part is late to post. This past weekend was my son's first fencing tournament. It left no time for proofreading and editing, but it was fun watching my little guy (he's 11) score a point on a six foot one or two teenager. He also won silver in his own division. Sorry couldn't help a little bragging. Anyway here is the next section. I have found this the most difficult section to write, because the idea sort of happened during the writing process, not in the planning process. This is how the story wanted to be told. My hope is that it isn't over the top emotional or melodramatic, but my fear is that it is. I just hope it pleases those who have been keeping up with this story. I have been catching up with my emails this morning and have been blown away by how generous everyone has been with their reviews. Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy.

To reduce someone's influence, first expand it;

To reduce someone's force, first increase it;

To overthrow someone, first exalt them;

To take from someone, first give to them.

Tao Te Ching – 36

**Decay and Renewal**

**4. Opposition part a**

"Is this what you really want?" Doctor Lisa Cuddy was quite familiar with staff wanting to get away from House. She had reassigned countless nurses, lab techs, and of course fellowship doctors, but she hadn't expected Allison Cameron to be one of them.

"Yes." Cameron didn't quite look the dean of medicine in the eyes as she said it. The truth was that moving from diagnostics to the ER **wasn't** exactly what she wanted. But, then again, staying in diagnostics clearly wasn't an option either.

"If House has done something to make you..."

Cameron sighed, if only it was just about House. She figured it went without saying at this point that there wasn't much House could do that would make her truly and unforgivably angry at him. No, she 'liked' him and always would. The truth was much more complicated and messy. "Look either Foreman or I have to go. That wasn't my decision, that was Mr. Vogler's decision. Chase is gone. That wasn't my decision. All Foreman has at this point is his job, his pride, and as screwed up as it sounds, House. I don't think I want to see what will happen if...," She couldn't believe she was revealing all of this, but the damn had burst and if Cuddy got wet, well there was nothing to be done. "Things have been crazy since the day that man decided to blow up the garage. Chase was...was hurt, you had to take Vogler's money and I've just been swept up in all of it. Well, I have to start making my own decisions. Mr. Vogler can't fire one of us if I decide to leave before he has the chance."

Cuddy took in the young woman's words and sat back in her chair. Was there anything that she could disagree with? Was there any reason to fight it? Not really, and the truth was that Cameron would make an excellent ER doctor. The real problem was that it was all too true and it hit close to home. She was the Dean of Medicine for Christ's sake. This was her hospital and everything was being taken out of her control. All because a janitor couldn't take the fact that he had been laid off. The thing that many people didn't know was that she had 'laid off' Carl Toomey so that he would have a shot at getting another job when actually he should have been fired because he had punched his supervisor. The guilt that she felt for not reporting him to the police right after that incident weighed so heavily on her some days she just wanted to collapse. If she had reported it maybe things would have played out differently. But it wasn't in her nature to collapse so she kept moving forward.

"Okay, but not just yet. I'll know what's going to happen with Vogler before he makes a move, so just wait a little longer. Maybe I can make it all work out; prove to Mr. Vogler that House does bring money into the hospital. Just give me some time and in return you and Doctor Foreman have my promise that no matter what you **will** have a job here. Mr. Vogler may think that this hospital is his own private plaything, but I won't let him destroy her!" She had said too much and they both knew it. "You didn't hear that." It wasn't a joke, it was an order. "I'll make it work. I know House is a pain, but he actually does contribute to the financial well being of the hospital. I just have to prove it."

Cameron nodded to Cuddy, knowing full well that Vogler didn't give a damn about money at this point. He hated House and was determined to bring him down. It didn't matter to him that innocent people would be hurt in the process.

***** ***** *****

After checking out Randall Crowen and graciously accepting his wife's profuse thanks and hugs, Eric Foreman had to practically drag himself to the diagnostics conference room. It hadn't been a particularly difficult case. Mr. Crowen had presented with lymphedema and pain in the joints. They initially supposed it was auto-immune; the body somehow attacking the lymph system As the patient went down hill, however, developing sores all over his body it was House who got the information out of Mr. Crowen that finally put the pieces together. The man had been in Africa six months earlier trying to get money back from Nigerian con-men who had cheated his mother out of her life savings. He hadn't wanted his wife to know and was also ashamed at having failed. House unkindly pointed out that he hadn't come back empty handed, he had come back to the states full of loa loa filiaria, a parasitic worm. The resulting filariasis was treated with albendazole and ivermectin, which he would take until all of the parasites were gone.

No, it hadn't been their toughest case. But still Foreman was almost visibly upset. He was pleased that the patient was now well and seemed to be coming to terms with how stupid his actions had been. But he wasn't too happy with himself. He had been next to useless in the diagnosis. His mind had been elsewhere and there was no denying it. He was just going through the motions. He found himself thinking more and more about just quitting. After all, he wasn't really much use anymore and if he quit it would leave Cameron safe from Edward Vogler's latest strategy in his war against House. As he arrived at diagnostics, his mind wandered to the letter from The Royal Melbourne Hospital that was sitting on his desk at home.

"If forced take on another patient and do some work sometime, do you think you can at least try to be part of the differential?" House started in on Foreman as soon as the man entered the room.

"Did I do anything to harm the patient?" There was still pride there even if it was being smothered by uncertainty and grief.

"No, no you didn't, but you didn't exactly do much to help him either. I don't give a damn what the patient thinks of you. It's what happens in this room that matters."

Cameron interceded. "House, give him a break. It wasn't that difficult of a case. You could of handled it by yourself if you didn't hate having to ask lab techs to run tests for you."

"Yeah but what fun is playing with myself." House cocked his head and added, "Scratch that, I can have an embarrassing amount of fun playing with myself, but the point is he isn't pulling his weight." He jabbed his cane at Foreman who was getting himself some coffee. "I don't care if your ideas are stupid, actually I like it when your ideas are stupid so I can mock them. The point is if you're here than you are helping to solve the problem not worrying about someone half way around the world." He would have gone on trying to manipulate Eric Foreman into admitting that he was seriously considering quitting if the conference room phone hadn't rung. As Cameron picked it up, House prodded the speaker phone button with his cane. She sighed and dropped the handset into its cradle. "Goodmorning, you've reached the incredible shrinking diagnostics department of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."

"Eerric" A familiar accent; slow, painful, plaintive.

"Chase?" The jokes died on House's lips. there was something seriously wrong.

"H..Hhouse. N..need Eerric."

"Chase, I'm here. what's wrong?" Foreman wasn't wasting any time.

"P..pleasse c..come...come get mme. Be be g...good. P..prommise." the three doctors stared at the speaker in horror. He sounded terrible, every word an obvious struggle.

"Chase, it's going to be okay. Just calm down for me. Where is your dad?" Cameron was amazed at how calm Foreman's voice was considering how tightly clenched his fists were and the worry that was radiating from his eyes.

"No...no.." There was absolute panic in the voice now.

Foreman looked up at House. "Half-Brain, calm down now! Alright kiddo what's going on? Where are you?"

House's term of endearment disguised as an insult had the desired effect for when he answered Chase sounded a little more in control. "Hh..hosp..pital."

"Hospital? What the hell!" Foreman could no longer contain his anxiety.

"S...sorry."

He realized immediately that over the phone line all Chase could read was anger or who knew what. "No Chase, no I'm not mad. Are you hurt? Why are you in the hospital?"

"Wass b..bad. P..pleasse come be g..g..ood. Promise Eerric." There was a pause and then, "N..no..no p..please."

"Hey, where'd you get that?" A gruff voice was heard in the background.

All they heard before the line went dead was Chase's continued pleas and then something that sounded frighteningly like a slap. A moment, silent and dense filled the room pushing out air and noise, stretching out as if time itself had stopped. That couldn't have been Chase. Their Chase didn't sound broken, weak, not even after waking from the coma, not even while trying to recover his ability to communicate, not even when the simplest task was a chore. Chase could be angry, sarcastic sure, but never pitiful. This was definitely wrong.

And then the oxygen rushed in with the sound of three voices all speaking at once.

"Jesus, what the hell is going on over there. House, I need to go.." Foreman sounded scared for the first time since he was sitting by Chase's bedside still full of drugs for his broken arm.

"And to think I keep a copy of that bastards book on my shelf.." House was no good at emotion, at showing he cared. All he had was his wit, but that had abandoned him.

"Foreman, you're going to need your passport. Do you have one? Do you know where it is?" Allison Cameron was determined. Damn it, enough was enough, she was through with others make decisions, ripping things apart. House told her that her problem was needing to fix things, people. Well then this was the perfect time for her to take control. Because things were pretty damn broken. "Foreman, look you get on your cell, get the first tickets you can get. We'll all chip in. I'll drive you to your place to get some clothes, your passport, and stuff. House you go see Cuddy and get the time off for Eric and see if she can get the hospital lawyers to give us some advice about what to do once he gets there."

***** ***** *****

Numb. That was how Eric Foreman felt. Three hours of frenetic activity; tickets, passports, packing, lawyers, rushing to the airport, having the plane held an extra five minutes (it was a medical emergency they said), and then nothing. Crisis was so much easier to handle when you had something to do. As a doctor he knew that to be absolutely true. It was much better to handle a dying patient if you could keep trying, keep doing something, but what truly tried your mettle as a doctor was to wait with a patient after all hope was gone, to simply be with them as they passed.

His meddle was being tested. Here, just short of wedged into a middle seat, a happy honeymooning couple to his left and an excited adventuring college student to his right, everything about his character was was being tested. Above all things he considered himself calm, collected, and focused. But how can you be calm when someone you care about is far away in pain, how can you be collected when you keep hearing that plea for help over and over, and how do you focus when you can't see what lies ahead.

There was a lawyer, a friend of the hospital attorney, that was going to be waiting for him at the airport. Cuddy and the attorney had rattled off something about him still being Chase's physician of record, Australia and the United States having similar patient rights provisions, and that the lawyer in Australia was a great a guy who would take care of him. It had mostly been noise; difficult to focus on and hard to understand. He hoped that someone would take care of him, so he could take care of his brother. As he rested his head against the seat cushion and let the persistent drone of the planes engines wash out all thought of the task before him, he remembered the last thing he said to Cameron as she dropped him at the airport curb. "I'm not coming home without him." That was something to focus on.


	6. opposition part b

Title: Decay and Renewal

Author: norbooboo

Genre: Non-Canon/ Friendship

Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?

See Author's Note after story.

Sorry for any OOCness. I tried to avoid it, but it definitely crept into this chapter.

Fish should not leave their depths,

And swords should not leave their scabbards.

Tao Te Ching 36

**Decay and Renewal**

**6. Opposition part b**

The flight had been long and he hadn't relaxed for a moment of it, but finally Foreman was in Australia. Melbourne Airport to be specific and he didn't have a clue what to do next. The answer came in the form of a manilla envelope with his name on it. 'Dr. Eric Foreman' it read, held up by an older man with snowy white hair and a dark complexion. He was holding the sign and scanning the crowd that was leaving the customs area. He walked up to the man with his arm outstretched, "I'm Eric Foreman, you must be Noel Marou."

The man grabbed Foreman's hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically. "You must be very tired, I will take you to your hotel. I hope you don't mind that I have booked a room for you. It is not the most expensive, but I'm sure you will find..."

"I'm sorry to be rude, but there is no way in hell that I'm going to go take a 'nap' while my best friend could be...," he stopped, unwilling even to speculate. "I don't want a hotel room or food or rest or anything! I just want to find Chase, make sure he is alright. I don't even know where he is in this Godforsaken country." Several people were staring now and Foreman realized that he had been just shy of yelling at the man. While taking a moment to compose himself, he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Rude, perhaps. Understandable, definitely. Be that as it may, my friend John Curtis asked me to take care of you and this problem and that is what I am doing. I have located the hospital where your friend is located and have done some investigating. This is not the first time the police have had complaints about the Crawford Institute. Now you could go barging in there demanding to see your friend, but would most likely find yourself out on your ass. I know, I've tried it." Noel Marou was quickly gaining Foreman's trust. Whether it was the calmness of his tone, the firmness of his touch, or the fire that one could clearly see burning in the man's eyes, he couldn't say. Maybe it was just that Marou had taken the danger seriously and had started to work right away. Just the knowledge that they knew where Chase was gave him heart. Knowledge had always been at the core of his hardest won victories.

"Why won't they let us see him?"

Marou took Foreman's carry-on bag from him and started toward the exit. "They claim that without Dr. Rowan Chase's permission they can't allow just **anyone** in. And that would be true if Dr. Chase was his son's guardian and his lawyers had bothered to have the young man declared incompetent to make his own medical and legal decisions."

"They didn't?" Foreman asked, having a hard time keeping the excitement from his voice. It was his first piece of good luck in months."

"No. So until they do Robert Chase can make his own decisions and choose his own doctors. As of right now, the federal prosecutor in family court and the police are recognizing you as Robert's doctor; his chosen doctor. What I need you to understand is that we must move carefully. You are no doubt going to become impatient with the process, but we are all doing what is best for your friend."

"Alright, you're the boss. What do we do first?"

"We go to your hotel. You eat and rest while we wait for a representative of family court and the police to arrive to interview you. They already have statements from your co-workers in the States, but having yours first hand will make the difference. Then we visit Crawford and you determine if Robert needs to be removed for health reasons. Of course, I cannot; would not ask you to lie, that would be unethical, but I think that this would be a good time to ere on the side of caution."

"You said the police have already had complaints."

"Let's get to my car and I'll tell you what I know so far."

***** ***** *****

Marou had made good use of the fourteen hours he had while Foreman was traveling. The Crawford Institute, or more correctly The Crawford Institute for the Treatment of Mental Disability, treated everything from cerebral palsy to down syndrome to schizophrenia and everything in between. It had gained a reputation among the rich and famous, 'the beautiful people', as a place you could unload family members who weren't so 'beautiful' It was housed in a gorgeously appointed manor on the outskirts of Melbourne and to all outward appearances a humane alternative when someone could not be cared for at home. Of course it cost a lot, but Crawford earned every penny. Their real service was making embarrassing, annoying, needy, and broken family problems disappear. Most of those who went to Crawford stayed patients there for the remainder of their lives. The police had started hearing reports of mistreatment of patients a year prior, but had nothing they could use until Noel Marou called. The lieutenant in charge of the case had a son with autism and though he was a consummate professional there was no way to avoid taking the whole thing personally. He was going to be damn sure that if something funny was going on at Crawford he was going to shut them down.

Foreman listened to all of this as he hungrily downed a sandwich Marou had kindly ordered from room service. Everything the lawyer told him was giving him hope. Since Chase had never been declared incompetent, never asked for Foreman to be removed from his case, and had initiated the phone call asking for help everything was working in their favor. Not only was Marou confident they would get Chase away from whatever bad situation he was in at Crawford, he also felt it was a real possibility that they could have Foreman named his guardian. Chase could come home to New Jersey and there would be nothing Rowan Chase would be able to do about it. Maybe it was the food in his stomach or maybe the little bit of sleep he had managed, but whatever it was he was feeling positive; the storm that had been raging since House had turned on the speaker phone back at PPTH was subsiding.

"How much longer 'til they get here?" Foreman asked referring to the police and prosecutor. "You asked me to be patient and I am, but you gotta understand that Chase and I... Well, I just need to make sure he's alright."

Foreman's question couldn't have been more well timed if he had a crystal ball. There was a knock on the door before Marou could even open his mouth to answer. There was a flurry of introductions and handshakes and then down to business. An hour and about a million questions later, Foreman's good mood and patience were definitely slipping.

"Ms. Copeland," the head Family Court prosecutor, "listen, I know your trying to be careful, but to put it like a doctor – you can verify your diagnosis with all the tests you want, but if the patient dies..." He had just been trying to make a point and had said the word without thinking, but as soon as he heard it with his ears his heart skipped a beat. That couldn't be a real possibility could it? Dammit, they needed to stop dawdling. "Can we just go to this Crawford place already. I'm telling you I heard someone hit Chase. There is no mistaking that sound. Isn't that enough?"

"I'm sorry, I know that you must be very worried," said Katherine Copeland. For all of her toughness, she wasn't heartless. She just didn't have the kind of personality that allowed her to do things by half. She was passionate about her cases and she had been working this case for over a year. Ever since the first person, an orderly that used to work at the Crawford Institute, came to her with stories of abuse of people who had no way of defending themselves she was determined to be their defense. "I think that with all you've given us and any physical evidence we can retrieve today we can finally get these people. Let me just call Doctor Burke."

"I'm Chase's doctor. I thought that was the whole point."

"Yes, but you are not certified to practice medicine in Australia so I want to make sure we have a local doctor there. I've known Christine Burke for many years. She's very good and specializes in cases of abuse. As long as you can make sure your friend agrees to have her treat him along with you we'll be okay from a legal standpoint. Why don't you get ready and I'll call and have her meet us there." When Foreman hesitated she softened for a moment recognizing how hard it was for this man to trust. She understood because she often found trusting people the most difficult thing in the world. "I promise you, I will do whatever needs to be done for your friend. I'm definitely trying to make my case, but people come first." It wasn't that easy to gain Eric Foreman's trust, but it wasn't as if he had a lot of alternatives.

***** ***** *****

The drive out to The Crawford Institute was thirty-five minutes of silence and tension and anticipation. It was possibly the first time Foreman dearly wished for House's company. The man would be making some incredibly insensitive remark, coming on to Ms. Copeland, insulting the entire country of Australia, calling Foreman a fool, and Chase a Half-Brain who caused too much trouble, conceivably all at the same time. At least that would give him something to think about other than the stifling silence in Noel Marou's black sedan and what lay ahead.

When they arrived he sprang from the car like it was on fire. The Crawford Institute was an imposing building that reminded him of the pictures he had seen in history books of the old plantation homes in the south. Though this looked more like the golden grasses of California than the lush greens of the South Carolina. There wasn't another building for at least a mile and that coupled with the way the gray mansion seemed to just jut from the earth all made him feel uncomfortable. Anything could happen here and who would know. There didn't seem to be any cars of visiting family just a large black Mercedes, a couple of smaller economy cars, and a small plaque with very small letters spelling out _**for the Treatment of Mental Disability**_under larger ones declaring that this was_**The Crawford Institute**__. _An involuntary shudder ran up his spine. He didn't give a damn what 'evidence' they found in there, his brother wasn't staying here.

"Are you ready for this?" Marou was at his side now. "You need to be calm, no matter what. Can you do that?"

Foreman took in his lawyer's words and turned his face up to the elegant but austere facade of the Crawford Institute. "Mr. Marou, it probably hasn't seemed like it up until now, but I'm actually a very calm person. I face situations all the time where my remaining calm is the difference between life and death for my patient."

"Yes, I'm sure, but you'll forgive me for pointing out that you probably didn't have a personal relationship with those patients. You may see something in there that makes you angry, makes you very angry and I need to know that **no matter what** you will remain calm and do whatever myself, the police, and Katherine tell you." The prosecutor and the lieutenant had now joined them.

"I will do anything you tell me to do, except one thing. I won't leave Chase here. He is leaving this place today with me – **no matter what**. Otherwise, you are in charge."

"There's Christine," Ms. Copeland said acknowledging a small blue car that had driven up. "Let me help her and we'll get started. Take a moment Doctor Foreman. Things will be pretty intense from here on out."

He was seriously tired of taking 'moments', but he refrained from saying so. The doctor was pulling a variety of things from the back seat of her car, including a wheelchair. 'Just being prepared,' Foreman said to himself, unwilling to admit that Chase might not be able to leave on his own steam.

Copeland and Doctor Burke came up to them. "Doctor Eric Foreman this is my friend Doctor Burke, Doctor Burke, Doctor Foreman from America."

"Hello, what is your specialty Doctor Foreman?" Burke had a pleasant voice that should have belonged to someone selling flowers, not a doctor who investigated abuse.

"Hi, neurology. What about yourself?" He found these pleasantries a test of his patience.

"I'm a family practitioner, but for a few years now I've been helping Katherine with abuse cases," she said. "But I'm guessing you don't really care about that right about now. Should we se to your friend?"

"Please." Finally, someone was getting down to business. Finally someone seemed to understand.

Crunching across the white stones of the drive toward the foreboding building, he couldn't help the feeling that he was heading into one of the biggest challenges life had handed him yet. He had faced childhood in a neighborhood where drugs were sold on the corner, he had faced juvenile detention, and he had faced medical school where even his best never seemed to be enough to erase judgements made because of the color of his skin. This was something else though. Everything else had been just about himself. This couldn't be.

They found themselves greeted at the door by a tall skinny woman dressed in a very chic black suit with a pencil skirt and gray pumps. She was actually quite an attractive woman with dark brown hair and striking features. Not quite what Foreman had been expecting. She smiled at the gathered group, but the smile most definitely did not make it to her deep brown eyes. This was Sela Crawford, daughter of Montgomery Crawford, founder of the Crawford Institute.

"Ms. Copeland, I hope we aren't going to repeat our meeting in February. I've given you my assurance that our patients are receiving the best care available in the country. I've also told you that without some sort of warrant and more importantly without the approval of the patients families you cannot come in here and start some sort of inquisition." The woman was far too smug. She felt she had the upper hand, though her eyes were wandering over the all the faces gathered at the door and must have had a feeling something was different.

"Ms. Crawford, no one regrets the incident in February more than myself." This was true, she regretted that she didn't get what she wanted. "However we are here on other business. One of your patients called his doctor in America and asked to be seen. Police Lieutenant Jones and I are just here to make sure that everything goes smoothly."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. The patients here at the Crawford Institute are under our doctors exclusive care and few of them would be capable of calling America even if they had access to a telephone. I have no time for your machinations Ms. Copeland. Your office has been indulging in a witch-hunt and I will see to it that my government contacts know what is going on."

"Actually Robert Chase is a patient here and he has retained his doctor from America. He called Doctor Foreman," Here she gestured to him, "and, contrary to what we've been led to believe about American doctors, has paid his patient a house call." The sweetness in Copeland's voice was little scary.

"Robert Chase is not competent to make any decision about his health or his doctors. He is under my care per his father's request."

"Well if Robert was declared incompetent it is not in the court records of either our country or in the United States. Furthermore, Dr. Rowan Chase has never been declared Robert's guardian. So if you will please show Doctor Foreman and his local oversight, Doctor Burke to Robert's room we will get out of your way soon enough."

The tension between these two women was intense. Foreman had the feeling that Copeland was more than a match for this Crawford woman, this woman who seemed to be so confident. But Katherine had more than just confidence. She had righteousness and justice.

"Fine Ms. Copeland. Doctors Burke, Foreman come right this way." She backed into the manor allowing the group to enter. When everyone moved to enter she added, "I can only allow the doctors to see Robert."

"Oh," said Copeland feigning innocence. "I will have to see Robert first in order to make sure that he did indeed call Doctor Foreman and that he indeed needs to see him. If it is as you say and there is no way he could have done so, well I might have to send Doctor Foreman on his way back to America." Having put it that way, the prosecutor knew she couldn't be denied.

"Yes, of course." It was obvious that Sela Crawford had had enough talking. That suited Foreman just fine, because he had long had enough talking.

The procession of doctors, lawyers, and police made their way up a winding staircase. This led away from the main house and to a newer section that had been added to the back of the building so that it wouldn't mar the effect the manor house had from outside. And if it was possible this section was even less appealing than the main house, though it had the added feature of having no character at all. It just reeked of **'institution'**, cold, austere, and functional. An elevator ride up two floors and another walk down a gray cinderblock constructed hallway found them at the door of Robert Chase.

So far this was playing out just as the orderly that had come to Copeland a year earlier said. He had told her that when the wealthy families came to Crawford looking for a place to 'put' their sick or disabled relations, they would be shown the well appointed treatment facilities and inviting bedrooms in the manor house and any guilt they were feeling was assuaged. Of course they never saw this part of the building. The truth was that for some institutionalizing their loved ones was humane and necessary and those families deserved to be told the truth. Sela Crawford was very good at making sure she attracted the type of people to her institute who just wanted their problem to go away. The testimony of the orderly in and of itself should have been enough for a warrant, but The Crawford Institute claimed that the orderly had been fired and was just trying to get revenge. They had used influential contacts in the justice department to push their case through. There was going to be no stopping Katherine Copeland this time. She knew in her gut that Robert Chase was going to be the key to putting an end to abuse at The Crawford Institute.

"Why aren't there windows in this door?" Copeland asked immediately. "Windows are required by the law."

Crawford knew better than to answer at this point. Words could be used against you, silence not so much. "Would you like to go in first Ms. Copeland?"

"Yes. I'll confirm Robert's wishes on this matter and we'll take it from there."

"I just want to let the doctors know that Robert cut his own hair." Crawford suddenly announced. Anyone could see that the woman was becoming nervous.

"What?" Both Foreman and Burke spoke at the same time.

"Robert had a paranoid brake about a week ago and cut his hair with a pair of scissors. He cut his hair and his scalp in a few places as well. That is why he is being kept in a safe room." She said all of this with confidence, but also with a hint of begging. Begging them to understand. That made Foreman pretty nervous.

The woman took a key from her pocket and opened the door and rolled her eyes when the lawyer commented that there were only certain conditions in which a patients door could legally be locked. This was definitely not going the way she wanted.

It took all of Foreman's control not to push past both women into the room. This was all taking ridiculously long. Just when he was about to give in to his need to get to Chase, he felt a strong almost painful pressure on his foot. He turned to Noel Marou, who looked straight into his eyes as if to say 'Just hold on...we're almost there.' He supposed having his foot stepped on was better than the whack in the shin House would have given him. 'Just hold on,' he told himself, 'we're almost there.'

The two women disappeared into the room, but weren't gone long.

Katherine Copeland looked shaken as she grabbed Doctor Burke's arm. "You better get in there. He doesn't look so good."

Foreman didn't waste anytime nearly knocking Doctor Crawford down as he pushed passed her into the room. It was as gray and windowless as the rest of the place and had nothing in it save a bed and the pitiful figure on it. If one didn't know that this patient was a twenty-eight year old man it would be assumed that a teenager occupied the bed for he seemed so small. Chase was pale and thin and his head was almost completely bald with just patches of short hair. At least one of the cuts on his head looked red and angry. Of more concern was the fact that he didn't seem to be reacting to the activity going on around him at all.

"Chase, hey kid can you hear me?" Foreman got nothing but a slow blink for his trouble. "He's in a catatonic stupor."

Burke nodded as she was taking his pulse. "His BP is low and he looks dehydrated."

Foreman checked his friends eyes with the pen light he always carried in his jacket pocket. Only the right pupil was reactive and both were very dry as was the lining of the mouth. He turned his attention to a nasty looking bruise on the left side of his friends face. This was no self-inflicted wound. At the same time Doctor Burke was checking the right forearm which looked a little swollen. When she lifted it they got the first response from Chase.

"Ow, n..no."

"Chase, Chase can you hear me? Just look at me okay." Foreman took both of Chase's cheeks in his hands and gently forced the young man to look at him. There was definitely recognition in the eyes. He still didn't speak, but slowly reached out his left hand to touch Foreman's shoulder.

Burke jumped up to get the wheelchair that waited in the hall. "He needs to get to the hospital immediately. He's dangerously dehydrated and I think has a broken arm," she spoke directly to Copeland studiously avoiding eye contact with the director of the institute. She was fairly sure that if she looked at Crawford she would be compelled to slap the woman. She had no compassion for people who hurt those who could not defend themselves.

Back in the room Foreman wasn't making any progress getting Chase to communicate. "Can you tell me if anything other than your arm hurts." Chase didn't respond. He now had a hold of his friends hand and didn't appear in any hurry to let go.

"Let's just get him out of here."

It didn't take much of their combined strength to lift Chase and place him in the wheelchair though it was made awkward by the fact that he wouldn't in fact let go of Foreman's hand. The latter didn't really mind though. "Okay man, it's time to get the hell out of this place."

In the hallway Dr. Crawford looked like she was starting to sweat a little and she kept straightening and re-straightening the collar of her expensive wool suit. When the wheelchair exited the room with its occupant she looked downright agitated.

"What do you think you're doing. You can't just remove a patient from the center without family consent. I need to call Dr. Chase and inform him." She knew that Robert Chase leaving the Institute would have devastating results, for her that was. "I can treat him here."

"My patient is leaving here, now." Foreman cut Copeland off. "My lawyer, Mr. Marou, has informed me that Chase is competent to make his own decisions and he wants to leave and find care at another facility, namely Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."

"I haven't heard Robert say any such thing. He is mentally ill and as we can all clearly see cannot communicate his wishes. Catatonia is a symptom of schizophrenia, not his earlier injuries. You are not qualified..."

"W...want..t to g..g..go." All eyes shot to the patient in question. Though Chase wasn't looking at anyone and was still holding on to Foreman's hand for dear life, everyone heard what he said. **I want to go. **"N..n..now!"

"I think that he has made his wishes quite clear Doctor Crawford." Copeland was again using her scary sweet voice. "When you get a hold of his father just give him my number. Tell him, I've been trying to reach him for the last day and have some questions. Don't worry about showing us out, I think that the lieutenant can find the way."

***** ***** *****

Sela Crawford closed and locked the door of her office. She had just finished yelling at the orderly who had allowed his cell phone to be stolen by a patient who presumably had the faculties of a ten year old. The same orderly was responsible for variety of bruises evident on Robert Chase. Not that that bothered her. She truly hated the people in her care, always had. Her father Montgomery Crawford had started the Institute when she was just a young girl. She couldn't remember living anywhere else. This life was all she knew.

Montgomery Crawford had very distinct beliefs about the care of what he called 'mental defectives'. He fervently believed that society was too soft, too accommodating and that created all of the 'mental illness' he treated. In he view there was no need to pamper anyone. He was also a greedy man and those two guiding principles gave birth to The Crawford Institute for__the Treatment of Mental Disability. He had groomed his daughter from her earliest memories to take over for him after his death. She went to the School of Behavioural Science at the University of Melbourne to get her degree in psychology and went to work for her father. All the time she was developing a greater and greater hatred for the patients; the defectives. And yet she had nothing else, only the need to carry on her father's work and grow the institutes bank account. The only joy in her life was seeing the money coming in spending it on vacations she took with no one and lavish furnishings in a room she shared with no one.

Sitting at the maple desk that had been her father's before her, Sela Crawford began to cry. Everything was going to be destroyed and she wasn't sure she really cared.

***** ***** *****

The crunching rocks in the front drive were more pronounced under the wheels of the wheelchair, but didn't hold quite the same ominous tone. Foreman didn't feel out of control anymore. Now the ball was in his court. Everyone seemed to notice the difference, because instead of telling him what to do or telling him to be patient they were following his lead. Listening as he told them to help him get Chase into Marou's car. Listening as he told Copeland to drive Burke's car so the doctor could drive with Chase. Listening when he told the lawyer and the police that they could ask Chase questions when he said they could. Copeland complained to Marou a little bit, but was reminded by the older man that he was Foreman's lawyer.

Then they were finally on the road to The Royal Melbourne Hospital. Burke was in the front with Marou, Foreman in the back monitoring his friends vitals. When the car left the distinctive sound of the stone drive for the smooth hum of the paved road Chase suddenly looked directly at Foreman.

"Kn...kneww yyou w..woould.d c..c..come,"he forced out and then let out a contented sigh and rested his head on his friends shoulder.

***** ***** *****

A full examination by the emergency room staff at The Royal Melbourne Hospital revealed that Chase was indeed suffering from moderate dehydration, malnourishment, a handful of lacerations to the scalp, and also a detached retina in his left eye that had left him with only 15% vision in that eye. It would require surgery if there was any chance of regaining some of the lost sight, but that would have to come later. Luckily the right arm wasn't broken just sprained. He was admitted to the hospital to monitor the administering of fluids and as soon as he was settled into the bed by the nurses he dropped into a deep sleep. Foreman would have liked to talk to his friend, but knew that sleep was what he needed now. He lowered himself into the big chair next to the bed. It was so comfortable his first thought was how he needed to talk Cuddy into getting ones like it for PPTH. Letting out a breath he felt he had been holding for a very long time, he stretched his arms up above his head earning a series of satisfying pops from his neck and back.

He had called the gang back in New Jersey and explained everything that had happened. Cameron was relieved that Chase was okay and safe now, Wilson asked questions about what was next and was there anything they could do to help, and House of course just made mocking comments about everyone involved, saving the juiciest for one Rowan Chase. Everyone could tell how angry he was because his humor fell flat when speaking of the man.

Foreman couldn't quite join in House's taunts and jibes of the man because in his heart he knew that Rowan Chase still had too much control over his and Chase's future, but that was a battle for the next day. Today's battle had been won and now was the time for rest. The nurses were kind enough to allow him to stay when visiting hours were done, instead showing him how the chair opened up into a small sleeping surface. Saying it was a bed would have been stretching things, but his last thought before falling asleep comfortably within reach of his brother was that Cuddy **really** needed to get some of these.

***** ***** *****

"Eric, I need to question Robert today. I understand your desire to protect him, but I have no choice. My clerk just phoned and said someone filed for a competency hearing..."

"We know," Noel Marou answered, his tone a gentle reminder that she needed to speak to him not his client first.

"Why didn't you call me Noel. You know we need access to Robert for our case. Who was it the father? He won't want us talking to his son. You should have let me know so I can question him before we're locked out."

"**Your** case, Katherine. I work for Eric. I have been at the courthouse all morning filing a petition for Eric to have guardianship over our young friend. The court will likely find Robert incompetent and we want to make sure that they see us as taking an active stance as to his future. I need to focus on this and this alone."

"But Noel you now how important..."

"And besides Chase is ready to answer your questions." Foreman stepped in forestalling any further 'lawyer arguing'.

"Really? Already? I was hoping, pushing maybe, but I didn't think.."

Marou held up his phone so Copeland could see the screen. "Actually I was just calling you when you got here."

"He's a lot stronger than you'd think," Foreman said pride evident in his voice.

"That's great," she said taking her phone from her pocket and fumbling with her laptop bag. "I can have a court reporter and a judge here in half an hour." It was clear she hadn't expected to talk to Chase. "I'll have to contact the Crawford lawyers."

"I don't want that Crawford woman anywhere near him." he insisted.

"Don't worry. That won't happen." Marou put a reassuring hand on his clients arm.

"Our only obligation is to inform her lawyers and allow them to listen in on the testimony."

Indeed a little mustached man identifying himself as Mr. Clark representing The Crawford Institute did join Foreman, Marou, Copeland, the court-reporter and the judge in the confines of Chase's small hospital room.

"H..House..will s.. thhhis at..tention will g..go t..to mmmy h..head." Chase joked with Foreman.

"Or he might wonder why all these people are interested in a half-brain." Foreman's comment earned him strange looks from the group, but since Chase laughed and seemed more at ease he didn't really care what they thought.

The process was very slow going. Chase's verbal skills had deteriorated since he had left New Jersey and he would also become upset when discussing some of the treatment he received at Crawford. But they got through it, although the judge had them take a break after his description of the beating of an older gentleman with Alzheimer's. Tears were visible on his cheeks as he told them that the man was hit by an orderly named Frank because he had forgotten his way back to his room after art therapy class. When Chase had interceded on the man's behalf Frank had grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to his own room. It was after that that he decided to cut his hair. In his mind it seemed like a solid plan. Having hair meant you got hurt; cut your hair you won't get hurt. The reasoning sounded ridiculous to those listening, but to someone with a damaged frontal lobe and frontal cortex it probably seemed obvious. Of course the hair went but the abuse didn't. When all had seemed darkest he had remembered what House had said. "You can rely on us though; you call if you need anything." And so when he saw the phone attached to Frank the orderly's waist he took it and made his desperate plea. At the end of three hours the Katherine Copeland had no more questions just more conviction that she needed to nail the Crawford Institute.

"Proud of you," was all Foreman said when they were finished.

***** ***** *****

The competency hearing was two days later and didn't go quite as Foreman and his lawyer hoped, though not as badly as it could have. Sela Crawford had decided not to even try fighting. She made a deal with the prosecutor's office. The Institute was closed and she was put on probation. The police had enough evidence from the all of the patients to file charges against the cruel orderlies. Katherine was overjoyed and with the weight of that off her shoulders personally represented Chase along with an ad litem appointed by the court.

The first sight Foreman had of Rowan Chase since the airport in Newark held more emotion that he would have cared for. He wanted so badly to just be calm and focused, but as soon as he saw the tall stately man all that went out the window. If he wasn't in a court of law it was very likely he would have taken a swing at the man.

Rowan Chase's dark eyes took in the appearance of his son; the ace bandage and plastic brace on the sprained arm, the eye patch that had was relieving the work of the left retina until it could be repaired, and the hair which had been completely shaved at the hospital so the lacerations could be tended; without betraying an ounce of emotion. "Robert, how are you?"

"F...fff... OK s..sir." Rowan came up to Foreman and Chase as if nothing was wrong; as if he had every right to put his hand on his son's shoulder; as if there was no reason not to push that arm away.

"Doctor Foreman please calm down."

"Calm down? Exactly where have you been and why the hell did you leave him in that place? You knew I would take care of him."

"None of this concerns you and I'm sorry that Robert saw fit to contact you instead of me in the first place."

"He called me because he knows I'm going to be there for him. We've been trying to call you for days. Should he have waited until you felt like maybe you missed him and came for a visit. Maybe he would have done you the favor of d..."

"Eric." His lawyer's voice finally broke through the haze of fury that had overcome him. "I need for you to come sit with me. It'll be better if you don't speak to Doctor Chase without your lawyer present. And besides," Marou subtly gestured to Chase, "I don't think this is in Robert's best interests at the moment."

Chase's eyes were wide darting fearfully from Foreman to his father. "Oh man I'm sorry this isn't what you need. I'm sorry I didn't mean to yell at your dad." He had, but Chase didn't need to know that. The young man looked fearful for a moment more than seemed to make a decision. "D..don't..t worrry. I'mm ok..kkay."

"I know you are." He put his arm around his shoulder and led him to where he needed to sit with Katherine and the ad litem. "Let's get this over with and then we'll go to that beach you were talking about."

***** ***** *****

The day had not gone quite how they had hoped, though not as badly as it could have. The judge determined that the requirements for declaring Chase incompetent had been met. He got a funny look on his face hearing the judge call him 'incompetent' but Foreman didn't have a chance to find out what he was thinking because the judge was talking about Chase's guardianship.

"Doctor Foreman, while I appreciate that Robert feels a close bond to you and it is quite apparent you are a caring and dedicated friend, I cannot be sure that these feelings will sustain what will often be a difficult and challenging situation. I don't think that you have thought through what it means to be the guardian to someone with significant mental, emotional and other health needs. I am not, however, convinced that you, Doctor Chase are a better alternative. I see no evidence that you have played an active role as a father to Robert from the time he was fifteen years old. And when given the chance to make up for past mistakes you only made more. The incident in which your son accidently caused his stepmother a minor burn did not warrant dumping him in a facility in which you obviously did little research. But the state has tied my hands. The law requires that I make all possible attempts to keep a family intact. This court is unable to come to a considered opinion at this time." The judge stopped to push her glasses up her nose and clear her throat. "Therefore I am going to leave Robert Chase in the care of a rehabilitation center of the court's choosing for a period of one month after which we will reconvene to determine the best course of action for him moving into the future. Doctor Foreman I would like to see that you have thought through your decision to provide for your friend. This is a lifetime commitment not to be made rashly. Also this court will need to see that you are continuing your employment in the United States and that your government is willing to grant citizenship to Robert. I suggest you use this time wisely. Doctor Chase if you feel that it is in your son's best interest to be institutionalized you will need to provide much better evidence than you have today and the court demands you find a center that is proper for his needs. I want to be able to keep your family together, but you will need to show this court that you can put you're son above your career; above yourself. Robert?"

Chase jumped a little as the judge addressed him directly. "Y..yes?"

"Do you understand what what all of this means?"

"N..no. I j..just want t..to go hhome withh E..Eric. I d..don't w..want t..t..to go to a ccenter."

"Well, it seems you understand more than you think. I know that you would rather be with your friend, but it's my job to take in account all sides and do what I think is best. I need a little time to do that and believe me I will think about what you want above all else. The Melbourne Rehabilitation Hospital is a wonderful place and you will find it is nothing like the Crawford Institute. I am going to allow Eric to take you there after you have had a couple of days together, as he did come half way round the world to see you." She was trying to be kind. Despite that, she could clearly see that the young man was far from convinced that she was doing 'what was best for him'. Her job had many moments like this, but that didn't make it any easier. "The lawyers can see my clerk for details of my decision. I will see you all in one month. This court is adjourned." The gavel hit and it was over.

***** ***** *****

The decision was made and Noel Marou had the unenviable task of explaining to his client that it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

"Listen, my friend. Remember that it was a distinct possibility that the court was going to side with Doctor Chase without even giving your claim a second thought. Judge Connors sounded right sympathetic to you. I have been in family court more times than you care to know and I can read a judge pretty well. She doesn't like Rowan Chase. She **is** going to decide in your favor."

"Okay, great, but in the meantime I have to leave Chase in another damn hospital until she does what you say she has already decided to do. I thought the American justice system was screwed up." Foreman had been calm and collected the entire drive back from the courthouse not wanting to upset Chase. They were at the opthamologist before a planned outing to Sandringham Beach and with Chase in with the doctor, he took a moment to vent his frustration borne of fear and anger. "I've said goodbye to him once already, let his father have his way once already. Isn't that enough dammit?"

Marou sighed and shook his head. "Life demands more of us sometimes. You can shout and fight all you want, you have to in fact, but in the end the things that matter the most cost more than our best. I know a woman who had her son taken away from her and she fought her whole life to just see and talk to him. She died with the last memory of her son seeing him drive away in a government car. So no, no it isn't enough." The shocked look on Foreman's face elicited another sigh. "But listen to me, you will not travel that road. Robert will come home with you I promise. Just not yet. "

Just then Chase came out of the exam room followed by the opthamologist. "C..can we go t..to the beach no..now?"

"Yeah let's go see if these Australian beaches are as great as you say they are."

***** ***** *****

Foreman's tickets back to the US gave him three days to spend with Chase and make sure that The Melbourne Rehabilitation Hospital was going to be okay. The director there was a woman named Mary Simpson and she was extremely good at her job. She was a neurologist with a emphasis in the treatment of traumatic brain injury. Foreman liked the way she did her assessment and how she had obviously read his notes.

"Chase, I'd like you to meet with our speech therapist for a little while and then you and Eric can go. I understand you have some plans for this afternoon."

"G..going t..to watch fffooty at..t the T...Telstr..ra D..Dome."

"Oh, yeah? I'm a North Melbourne fan. How about you?" Mary asked. Foreman wondered if she was just making conversation or testing Chase's long-term memory. He suspected a bit of both.

"Uused t..to fff...ff like the Mmagp..pies."

"Oh Collingwood. Well, the speech therapist is here and I'm sure he'll be very quick and you'll be off to your game."

Foreman followed Mary from the room with a quick smile to Chase. "I'll be right outside." Chase rolled his eyes a little as if to say, 'remember I'm not a baby.' He didn't miss the silent communication. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Outside the room, Mary addressed Foreman. "He has done some backsliding since your last exam in the States, but it's not as bad as it could have been. I don't see any reason why he won't bounce right back in the right conditions."

"Meaning, this place," he said, not exactly trying to hide his dislike of the whole situation.

"Well, yes and no. I think that we can do a lot for him here, but no I meant with you. He doesn't need to be in rehabilitation full time. We both know that. Yes the lack of executive function affects everything he does and the truth is all the research I've seen indicates that damage like the sort his brain has been subjected to doesn't heal or reassign function, but that doesn't mean he can't learn to live a fairly normal life within his new limits. Granted he won't be able to live alone, but I have a feeling that's where you come in."

Foreman needed a moment to realize that this woman was basically saying she thought Chase should be with him. That had to be good. "Are you going to tell the judge that?"

"She will ask for a report from me and having met with both yourself and Doctor Chase, I think that I can safely say that my recommendation will be for Chase to be with you."

"You don't call him Robert. He doesn't like Robert" He hadn't said the last part alone. Mary had said the same words at the same time. They both laughed. This lady was alright.

"Well, he should be about done. I guess we'll see you tomorrow at 3:00. I know this isn't easy, but I promise you we'll take good care of him."

***** ***** *****

Three o'clock came and found them again at the Melbourne Rehabilitation Hospital. Chase wasn't speaking and Foreman was vibrating with pent up frustration. He had kept everything positive for his friend's sake, but he really wanted to shout. Everyone; Marou, Mary, even Katherine Copeland; had tried to reassure him that everything was great and he just needed to be patient. Everything would work out. For years to come his overriding memory of Australia would be "Be patient". All he really wanted to do was yell and vent and say something profoundly offensive. He decided that back in Jersey he never needed to say something offensive during frustrating situations because House took care of that. Notwithstanding how he felt inside, his mother had raised him to be calm and polite so he plastered a smile on his face and pushed the emotions down out of sight.

Noel Marou was there, having become more than just their attorney, but also a friend. He knew better than to say anything at this point. He could see that his client was at the end of his rope

Mary Simpson knew that there was nothing to be gained by dragging the goodbye out and yet it broke her heart to be the one to be blunt. "Eric, you have to go and trust that he will be okay."

"He's been quiet all day. I just don't think he can handle this."

"Yes he can. You're the one who keeps telling everyone that Robert Chase is strong. This is more about you. You're afraid he'll be upset, upset with you. I like you, but any idiot can see that you are used to getting your way by shear force of will, but not this time. You can't bring Chase with you and you need to just get over it. You are going to say goodbye and no matter what he does you are going to walk out that door. I hope that it's not a final goodbye, but right now that doesn't matter. Do what is right for him. Tell him everything will be fine and you will see him soon. Now, before it gets harder" With that she turned to lead them to the room where Chase was getting settled in.

This room couldn't have been more different than the one at The Crawford Institute if that was its only purpose. There was a large window shrouded by a creamy yellow curtain, a matching bedroom set that was of course utilitarian in appearance, but still nice and inviting, and on the floor was a threadbare, but beautiful oriental rug. Chase was sitting in a armchair by the window looking out at the small garden and sports field below. The sunshine was reflected in his over-bright eyes.

"D..don't..t want..t to st..tay," he said quietly. "P...please t..take me with you."

"I can't yet, kid. If it were up to me I would, but I don't want to make the judge mad. We just gotta do what everyone keeps saying and be patient."

"Don't wanna." He winced at how petulant he sounded.

"Hey, think about how I feel," Foreman said with a laugh, sitting on the arm of the chair. "House is going to make my life hell until you get back. I promised I wouldn't be coming back without you and he is sure to use those words against me for as long as possible. He really needs you around. You're the only one who watches TV with him and tolerates his stupid jokes. You always were."

"I..I miss House and A...Allisson."

His intention had been to make Chase laugh or at least smile, but no such luck. "Well, I have to go. You have the phone we bought," The day before he had made a point of buying a pre-paid cell phone with plenty of minutes and all the important numbers programmed in it. "and you know you can call anytime." There was no sense stalling anymore. He put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I promise I'll be back in one month to take you home."

He leaned down to give Chase a goodbye hug, but he ducked out of reach and across the room. "P..please. Please, d..don't g...go. I won..t..t b...be ba bad."

"Chase, stop." It was no use though, panic had set in and Foreman could do nothing but watch in alarm as he devolved into tears, begging not to be left behind.

"Say goodbye and walk out the door." Mary said firmly.

"I can't, he's..."

"You must my friend. There is nothing you can do here accept make it worse. Ms. Simpson will calm him down and he will understand. Come we must get you to the airport." Marou said.

Foreman nodded and, with a tilt of his head that his friends would recognize as him screwing up his courage, he strode over to Chase gave him a quick fierce hug and said, "I love you, kid. Don't forget." He then fled the room.

He could still hear Chase from the hallway and almost lost his courage and ran back to his side. Marou was there to hold him back.

"I know that this is not easy. He is hurting, but he will be okay. Many people care about him and I know that in the end that will be enough."

***** ***** *****

People like to talk about broken hearts. Songs and books are written about hearts broken and being broken. Poetry flourishes in the romantic idea of mangled hearts beyond repair. But until you actually feel it; the heart actually ripping itself apart in your own chest those words mean nothing. It isn't at all like they say. Your heart can be tearing in two and you can still sit in an airplane seat and smile at the flight attendant and thank him for your warm flat soft drink, you can walk in the garden of a strange new place wishing you had done things differently and still take in the beauty of a purple rose. Your heart can be bleeding separated from those you love, but deep inside there is an ember of hope. The heart is a funny thing. It breaks and it heals and then breaks again ready to start the whole thing over again.

"One month isn't so long." Two men speaking the same words. Foreman to Cameron over the airplane phone, needing to speak to someone who would understand even if it did cost an arm and a leg. Chase to his new friend Mary, clutching his new cell phone tightly in hands that didn't always do what he wanted them to, but certain he would be hearing from his best friend soon and would be able to assure him that they would both be okay.

One month. Not so long, but long enough.

***** ***** *****

A/N: I am sorry to add this far too long author's note, but felt I needed to apologize to those that have been following this story. It kind of went off the rails in this chapter. Between the holidays and a wicked writers block, I found it so difficult to finish this chapter. There seemed to be so much story to get across and with all the new characters to introduce and flesh out it just kept growing and growing. At times it seems to move at a snails pace and then at others moves to fast to make sense. In the end I couldn't make it any better and since my main goal in this whole thing was to make sure this story was completed I needed to just post it and move on. There are just three more chapters and they shouldn't be nearly as long.

I also wanted to add that I chose two famous indigenous Australians to create Noel Marou's name. Please feel free to point out any medical, legal, or Australia facts that I have gotten wrong. I did a little research, but not nearly enough.

As I near the end of this story an idea has struck me that may lead me to revise the current chapters, I think I better finish the darn thing first though.

Thanks again for reading. You are all the best.


	7. Overcoming

Title: Decay and Renewal

Author: norbooboo

Genre: Alternative Universe/ Friendship

Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?

A/N: I am just playing around with these characters, not intending any infringement. This story does not take place in any particular point in the canon House storyline, jumping around as it pleases and is therefore strictly AU. For clarification I will say that the Cameron/Chase romance never matured and is not a factor in this story. Hopefully any major divergences from the show will be explained in the story itself. Thanks for you patience.

Also sorry for the lack of editing in this chapter. I really just want to make sure that this story gets finished. I hope that the typos and bad grammar aren't too glaring or disruptive.

Water overcomes the stone;

Without substance it requires no opening;

This is the benefit of taking no action.

Yet benefit without action,

And experience without abstraction,

Are practiced by very few.

**Decay and Renewal**

**7. Overcoming**

When Foreman had returned to New Jersey without Chase, House had been merciless and in return Foreman had been defensive. Cameron was pretty sure she was going to have to kill the both of them before too long. And to top it all off Edward Vogler was closing in on his fondest wish – getting House fired. She was checking in with Cuddy regularly to make sure she was still going to move her to the ER if things got too tough. After all, it was more important than ever that Foreman keep his job.

Vogler seemed to be getting all kinds of inside information. House had started out accusing her but had quickly dismissed the notion and zeroed in on his other employee. She had to admit that at first she assumed it was Foreman too. In order to become Chase's legal guardian, Foreman needed his job and stability. The problem was it just wasn't in Foreman's character. Yeah, sure he might go to Cuddy when he thought House was going too far, but he wouldn't hide the fact. It was more likely that the information was coming from a lot of sources; namely the various nurses and lab techs whose jobs House occasionally made a living hell. All of which reminded her that she was crazy for liking Gregory House.

"Where's Foreman?"

Damn it why was he always sneaking up on her? She oughta tie a bell on his cane. "Just checking in with Mr. Hansen."

House eased himself into a seat at the conference room table. "Or maybe just telling Vogler how I misused to the hyperbaric chamber to waste all of his money. Oh and save the patient's lying, worthless life."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Cameron jumped again as Foreman suddenly appeared behind her; he needed a bell too, "but I was just talking with our apparently 'worthless' patient and his wife and kids. She thinks you're a blessing from heaven, by the way."

"I didn't say **she** was worthless. No one that hot is worthless." He waited for Foreman to roll his eyes, his default response, and then continued. "Why aren't you snitching to Vogler? You need the job, don't you? Just give him a little ammo against me and I'm sure the big guy will make sure you keep it."

"I'll just rely on being a good doctor. When you screw up, I'll just let Dr. Cuddy, **your boss**, know. I won't need to go tattle to a financial backer." He slapped the Hansen file down on the table.

"Really?" House settled himself into a chair at the head of the conference table. "Half-brain would have sold out me, you, and the rest of the hospital if the coward thought his job was in danger."

"House! No he…"

"Yeah, yeah he would have." Foreman interrupted her protest.

House was as surprised as Cameron, but he hid it well.

"Ah, so absence hasn't made the heart grow fonder. Just made you remember what you hated about him in the first place, eh?"

"First of all, I don't hate anyone. I'll leave that to miserable bastards like you."

"But you know he would have told Vogler anything the guy wanted to know."

"To protect his job. I didn't understand it then; thought it was just typical rich white kid ass-kissing. And don't roll your eyes," Foreman directed at Cameron. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Medical schools everywhere are full of them. Never had to do a days work in their lives. They're set; part of the club. All they have to do is figure out who's got the most power and then kiss that guys ass until one day its time for all the young rich flunkies to kiss their ass."

"Ooh, I think I saw a movie in a hotel room like that. Not my thing, but I'm glad you're comfortable sharing…"

Foreman ignored House's comment. "But that's not Chase and you knew it. Didn't you?"

"All I knew was that he was a good enough doctor and Cuddy made me hire him. Oh, and there was the matter of his famous father's phone call."

"Right. The problem with that is 'good' doctors is boring and simple. You need something to figure out. So you hire people who are a puzzle, or maybe broken in some way and man you really hit the jackpot with Chase. So yeah, he would have gone straight to Vogler because of some fear, real, imaginary, or manufactured by you. 'Cause this job means…meant everything to him. Oh, and I met Rowan Chase and there is no way he would have helped Chase get a job."

"I never said the guy asked me to give his a kid a job. No, he told me that he didn't think that Robert was ready for the responsibility of working in such an important position." House got up rubbing his thigh before reaching into his inside jacket pocket for the ever-present bottle of vicodin. "So we all agree that Chase would have been a big fat tattle-tale, but what about you Foreman?"

"Me? Well, I guess you'll just have to keep wondering. How about Cameron and I just focus on finding a new case. You go see if you can antagonize Vogler into firing you."

Even House knew it was time to drop it, for the moment anyway. He knew that Foreman wasn't telling Vogler anything. Just as he was sure that the man **had** used Chase as a crowbar to try and loosen the information out him. The problem was Foreman had too much pride. And he couldn't sacrifice it even for Chase and that fact was pissing the young man off. Foreman would be too easy of a target today. That would make him no fun at all.

"Looks like we might have to put that on hold. One thing I know is what lawyer looks like; I was married to one. That man is definitely a lawyer." Cameron and Foreman turned to see a pencil-necked man in a very expensive suit heading for the office. "Okay here's what we do you're House," a point at Foreman, "you're Foreman," a cane jab at Cameron, "I'll be Cameron, though I don't really have the boobs, buy I'll do my best."

Cameron opened her mouth, but was interrupted by a new voice.

"Excuse me I'm looking for Dr. Eric Foreman."

"That's me." Foreman answered before House could have a chance to say anything. He offered one hand to Pencil-Neck and the gestured to House's office with the other. "How about we step into the office?"

"Did Vogler send you? Tell him not to bother. Dr. Foreman is apparantly my bitch." House said a bit too loudly.

"Excuse me?" Pencil-Neck looked appalled at House's language and manner.

"Don't mind him, he's one of our mental cases." House just watched as Foreman led the suit into his office.

"How can I help you?"

Pencil-Neck took in his surroundings, cast one last glance at House, and then got to work. "My name is Josh Donovan and I represent Dr. Rowan Chase," Foreman actually jumped and tensed in his seat. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting from this guy, but it wasn't this. "And I am here to discuss the matter of the guardianship of Robert Chase."

"The **matter**? Is that all his son is to him? A legal matter?"

"I'm sure I don't know sir. I am paid to deal with legal matters and that is what I am here to do." Donovan proceeded to take a seat by the desk and removed an immense file from his attaché.

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, I don't have a lawyer with me. I don't think we should be discussing anything. You found your way here so you can find your way out!"

"Of course sir, you are right. I did advise Dr. Chase that you would want and need your attorney present, but he did want the, … excuse me, the matter handled expeditiously."

"People usually do when they're about to throw you under a bus."

"Yes, uhm, well … your attorney Mr. Marou should be receiving these papers soon if he hasn't already. I assure you that my firm would never do anything unethical, but you will of course want to confer with Mr. Marou. However if you have a moment I can give you a brief overview."

"Fine, but none of this is legally binding. Dr. Chase can try any trick he wants. The judge is going to rule in my favor."

Pencil-Neck merely smiled, "I think I ought to dispense with formalities." He smiled and Foreman couldn't help but back off a bit. The guy was just doing his job after all. "Dr. Chase is prepared to relinquish all claim to guardianship of his son Robert Chase to you on the…"

Foreman jumped out of his seat. "What? Is this some kind of joke or trick or something?"

"No, but there is a condition. You would have to sign binding agreements releasing all claim to Dr. Chase's estate on behalf of yourself and Robert Chase."

Cameron had been unable to contain herself after watching her friend jump out of his seat like he had been electrocuted. She and House came in just as Foreman yelled, "He can keep his damn money."

House looked Foreman up and down. "See, I told you he was my bitch. Vogler can't even buy him. Though, if the price is right, I'm for sale."

"Shut-up House!" Cameron and Foreman said in unison.

"My client would like to meet with you tomorrow at 3:00 at our offices. That will be 9:00 am in Melbourne, I believe. We have teleconferencing ability so your lawyer in Australia can join us. You'll find all the information about the teleconferencing in the front of the file."

"I'll be there, so will my lawyer," Foreman said glancing over the thick folder in his hands and absently shaking hands with Pencil-Neck.

Foreman wasted no time getting to the phone on House's desk and dialing the number from memory. "Come on, come on; pick up. Mary this is Eric Foreman – yes – what! I don't understand how could he – the judge – but what does that mean – uh huh – but – uh huh – No, stop. It's not your fault. Don't worry, I'll find him. Yeah I'm calling Noel right now – I know, I must have left my phone somewhere. Okay, I'll call you as soon as I know something – keep in touch – yeah, bye." He scrubbed at his face and let out a shaky breath.

"Out with it. What did the bastard do now?" House didn't bother with jokes.

"He took Chase. He went to the hospital with a writ from the judge and he just took Chase."

"Did anyone call the judge? Should we?" Cameron's voice echoed the fear that was evident on Foreman's face.

"Apparently she just left for a two-week vacation in Bali." Foreman was redialing the phone and while waiting for the party to pick-up continued to talk to Cameron, "Can you go see if my phone is in the locker room?" She scurried off, sparing a look at House. She couldn't remember seeing him look so… so… serious.

"Neil, it's Eric. Yeah, I know I forgot my cell. – I know the lawyer just left and I called Mary. – How can he do that? – Just like five minutes ago – No, but I let him know that I don't care about the money – No! He can keep his damn money – Yes maybe but I'll manage that myself if he does. – I'm sure, I'm positive! – Okay – okay – He said to meet with his client tomorrow, so…. Do you think Chase is with him? – Okay, okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Foreman sighed and sank into the chair behind House's desk.

House leaned heavily on his cane, his thigh throbbing murderously. "You know it would have been a lot simpler for everyone concerned if Chase had just died on the operating table."

House doubted he had ever seen anyone move so fast. If there hadn't been a desk between them he'd have found himself on his ass.

The law offices of Kline, Burrows, and DeFrank were clean and stylish. There was water fountain wall in the waiting area, a beautiful, well-spoken woman at the front desk, and thick cream carpet under foot. Everything he should expect from Rowan Chase's attorneys. Foreman thought about Noel Marou's office back in Melbourne; no secretary at all, well spoken or not, books overflowing from rickety shelves, and indigenous art here and there. The beautiful well-spoken woman pulled him from his thoughts.

"Are you sure I can't get you some coffee or water or something? I think it will be a bit longer. They're having some trouble with the teleconference. Mr. Kline is a great lawyer, but they really needs to hire someone to take care of the technical stuff."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just anxious to get this going."

"I understand. Why don't I go see what is happening back there. I'll be back in just a few moments."

Foreman watched as she rounded the waterfall wall and disappeared into the bowels of the offices. He craned his neck to see and even considered following her, but thought better of it. It was just driving him crazy thinking Chase might be right there in the building. But, surely even Rowan Chase wasn't cold enough to subject his son to this. He was sure Chase wanted to be with him, but still who wants to know that there own father gave you up with only a thought to his money.

Well-spoken woman came back around the wall along with a young man in jeans and a dress shirt. He was tall, 6'4" at least, but an open face with a big smile mediated any intimidation. He extended his hand. "Hi, Jared DeFrank."

"Eric Foreman." As much as the man's manner made you want to like him instantly, Foreman reminded himself that this was Rowan Chase's lawyer not a friend.

"I'm really sorry you had to wait. They just got that new Cisco teleconferencing thing and no one really knows how to make it work. They ask me to do it, like I know anything. Oh well, we're all set up now. Mr. Marou is with us so if you follow me we can get started."

Foreman stood up, buttoned his jacket, took a deep breath and followed DeFrank. As they moved further into the office, the need to know became too much. He wasn't the kind of person who liked going into unknown situations (one reason his friends thought it was so strange he was in diagnostics). He needed to know what he was walking into. "Who is here with Dr. Chase?"

"You mean who's representing him? Mr. Kline, a senior partner here is representing Dr. Chase. Also there will be a court reporter, and some other paralegals. Oh and of course me. I was assigned as Robert's ad litem."

"So… so Ch, I mean Robert is here?" Foreman groaned inwardly at himself, 'real smooth'.

"No. I didn't think it was in his best interest to witness this. I spoke with him for quite a while yesterday, though, so I feel confident that his desires will be represented."

"I'll bet. After all you work for the law firm that works for his Dad. No bias there." Foreman had stopped walking and was looking around as if he could get an amen from somewhere. Maybe he was too used to being House's straight man.

"Oh, sorry. I should have explained. The DeFrank on the door belongs to my dad. He was a senior partner here before he passed away eleven years ago. I'm a social worker so Mr. Kline called in a favor and asked me to do this."

"Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"No. It's my fault. I should have properly introduced myself. And truth be told it is a little hinky, since I've known John Kline my whole life, but I make the same promise to you that I did to Judge Mason. I am here to make sure Robert is represented and that is more important to me than anything else. I've spoken to your attorney too and he seems okay with it." They had continued walking. "You're really lucky to have Mr. Marou as your lawyer, you know. The work he has done on behalf of the Stolen Children in Australia and their parents is amazing. Here we are."

From the moment he stepped into the room, noting Neil Marou's smiling face and Rowan Chase's dour one, everything was either moving in slow motion or too fast to make sense of. Years later all he would really remember was repeatedly saying that he didn't want the elder Chase's money; wanted nothing to do with it. Thankfully Jared DeFrank turned out to be an excellent ad litem. It didn't take long for it to become apparent that he was there to look out for Chase. He reminded Rowan that there were some funds due to Chase from his disability payments from the hospital, as well as trust fund moneys that were legally the younger Chase's in full and he made sure that Foreman had made appropriate plans for Chase's rehabilitation and care in the short and long term. He also let Foreman know that he would be continuing as Chase's caseworker for the State of New Jersey. It was all falling into place.

Terms were clarified, addendums spelled out, papers signed, and then in a flurry of handshakes it was over; the whole damn thing was over.

"We are staying at the Marriot. I will make sure that Robert is ready by 7:00." Rowan wouldn't look at Foreman when he spoke to him.

Maybe it was the sadness he saw in the man's averted face or just the fact that winning made it easier to be compassionate. Whatever it was, the anger was abating. "Sir, I don't want to take your son out of your life. Feel free to call anytime or come and see him. I know that he loves you and he makes it very easy to love him back. I think it would be best…"

"Dr. Foreman, I don't think you really understand my son at all. I know you don't understand me. He had the chance to become a brilliant doctor, but that is gone now. Do you really think I can be around him now without cringing at the mental child he is? The child he will always be? Robert was never easy to love and the fact that he now has the mental and emotional maturity of a seven year old doesn't make that any easier. Maybe you like to think that he is like a permanent baby that you can care for, but I think that will wear thin fairly quickly and when it does, well, then you can judge me."

Without waiting for a response the older man spun on his heels and left the building is lawyer quick to follow. Foreman turned to DeFrank and Marou to see if they had just heard what he did.

"You can't be concerned about that my friend. He has to make his own bed and I daresay that Robert will be fine without his father in his life. He already has a hell of a brother." Neil Marou always seemed to have just the right words ready.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you Neil."

"I did very little today. Dr. Chase made it easy for us."

"That's not what I'm talking about. All of this. You've been a real friend and I've learned a lot from you. If you ever need anything don't hesitate." Foreman really meant it too. Neil Marou had taught him how to be strong and unwavering in the face of life's difficulties and to do it with gentleness and compassion two things he didn't always use.

"Just make sure you let me know how you and our young friend are doing. Come and visit us." Neil laughed his warm laugh and added, "We wouldn't want Chase to forget where he comes from." It was the first time Marou used Chase instead of Robert and the significance wasn't lost on Foreman.

"We'll see you again for sure, man."

"Goodbye my friend. Goodbye Mr. DeFrank and thank you for looking after Chase."

"You're welcome Mr. Marou. It was a honor working with you."

Foreman watched as the screen went black.


End file.
